Arabia Felix: Across The Empty Quarter Of Arabia

ARABIA FELIX

Also by BERTRAM THOMAS

ALARMS AND EXCURSIONS IN ARABIA [Alien & Utiwin. I93 1 )

Contributed to :

Royal Geographical Society :

(I) March 1929, ‘A Camel Journey through the South-
eastern Borderlands.’

(II) January 1931, ‘A Journey into Rub’ al Khali.’

(Ill) September 1931, ‘A Camel Journey across the Rub’ al
Khali.’

Royal Asiatic Society:

(I) October 1930, ‘The Kumzari Dialect of the Shihuh Tribe
of Musandam.’

(II) October 1931, ‘Burton and the Rub’ al Khali.’ (Burton
Memorial Lecture.)

Royal Anthropological Institute:

(I) June-December 1929, ‘Among some Unknown Tribes of
South Arabia.’ (Orientalist Congress. Oxford, 1928.)

(II) December 1931-June 1932, ‘Anthropological Observa-
tions on South Arabians.’

Royal Central Asian Society:

(I) Vol. XV, 1928, ‘The Musandam Peninsula and its In-
habitants — the Shihuh.’

(II) Vol. XVIII, 1931, ‘Across the Rub’ al Khali.’

ARABIA FELIX:

ACROSS THE EMPTY QUARTER OF ARABIA

by BERTRAM THOMAS

O.B.E. [Mil.]; formerly Wazir to H.H. the Sultan of Muscat
and Oman, sometime Political Officer in Iraq, and Assistant
British Representative in Trans-Jordan. Founder’s Medallist
of the Royal Geographical Society; Burton Memorial Medallist
of the Royal Asiatic Society; Gold Medallist of the Royal
Geographical Society of Antwerp; and Cullum Gold Medal of
the American Geographical Society

WITH A FOREWORD BY

T. E. LAWRENCE (T.E.S.)

AND APPENDIX BY

Sir ARTHUR KEITH, F.R.S., M.D., Etc.

CONTAINING ALSO

MAPS, CHARTS, DIAGRAMS
AND ILLUSTRATIONS COMPLEMENTARY
TO THE TEXT

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CONTENTS

CHARTER J*AGL

FOREWORD xv

PREFACE xxi

INTRODUCTION xxiii

I. A PROPITIOUS START AND AN EARLY
CHECK i

Embarkation — Disembarkation — The need for secrecy —
Trouble in the Interior— My plans unfolded— My envoys
leave.

II. AT DHUFAR: ANARCHY, TREACHERY AND

HOSPITALITY 8

The settled tribes of Dhufar— History of Dhufar — Tribal
anarchy — Hegemony of Sultan established — Arrival of a
tyrant— A tyrant rules and his sons are murdered — Order
restored— Arab instability— A visit to Salala— A social
function — Giant ancestors — The price of freedom — A
negro dance — The Bathing Chorus.

III. SKULL-MEASURING AND DEVIL-DANCING 22
Racial types— P re- Islamic civilisations— A father’s skull —
Taking head-measurements — Social distinctions — A war-
rior’s pride, and his needs— The Governor of Dhufar— The
‘unco guid’ in Arabia— Exorcism — Negro customs— Insti-
tutions of slavery — Mourning ceremonies — The dance of
the slave girls — The climax — The evil spirit is exorcised.

IV. IN THE QARA MOUNTAINS: ’AIN AR RIZAT 36
Hunting prospects — Preparation of specimens — Earlier civil-
isations — Ancient graves — A son of the free — Offerings to
spirits — Pagan cults — Lying, picking and stealing — A cour-
ageous collector — Evil spirits — Sitting up for hyena.

[V]

CHAPTER

CONTENTS

PAGE

V. IN THE QARA MOUNTAINS. ANCIENT SUR-

VIVALS AND THE BLOOD SACRIFICE 46

Ibn Battuta’s views — Hadoram and Hazramaveth — Forest-
clad mountains — Unruly camels— Peril from snakes— Rock
caves - An offer of marriage — A pleasant valley — A tribal
dance— A hyena slain— Costly mourning ceremonies — An
Arab ‘wake’ — Local laws of inheritance — The wife’s duties
and rights.

VI. THE QARA MOUNTAINS. HYENAS, FAITH

CURES AND CIRCUMCISION. 58

Poisonous snakes — Food customs — The riding camel of a
witch — The gazelle and the hyena — The offence of the ape
— Demands on my medicine chest — Restitution of conjugal
rights — A cure for varicose veins — The cautery — Theft
and pillage — T ribesmen and non-tribesmen — The camel
of Salih bin Hut— The origin of the Qara— Christian tra-
ditions -Sons of Adam- Female circumcision— Hair cus-
toms -Female adornments — An old lady’s hand-bag— Flir-
tation punished — Social conventions — love lyrics.

VII. THE QARA MOUNTAINS. EXORCISING THE

EVIL EYE AND ORDEAL BY FIRE 77

Camping in the mountains — Camels and cattle — Sheep and
goats — Exorcism of the Evil Eye— Veterinary methods —

The Qara at Khiyunt — Local law and custom — Atone-
ment for blood— The law of hospitality — The oath on the
Qur’an -The ordeal by fire— The furnace of affliction -
Belief in witchcraft — Gossip with a murderer.

VIII. THE QARA MOUNTAINS. FAREWELL 91

Matriarchal customs — A case of snake-bite — A case for a
physician — Lying up for panther — The sacrifice of blood —
Marriage customs, divorce, re-marriage and married
women’s property — Betrothal customs — The Bait Qutun
trouble— Camp at Fuzah— Murder in cold blood — The
psychology and ethics of the blood-feud — Morning at Arbot.

[ vi ]

CHAPTER

CONTENTS

IX. DHUFAR. THE ELEVENTH HOUR

The Sultan’s yacht arrives — Discussions with Shaikh Salih —
The Wali intervenes— Shaikh Salih agrees — Computations
and calculations — The attitude of the Murra.

X. OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY

The first night’s camp — Camel management — Diana Orac-
ulum— The cave of Sahaur— Lehez — The penalty of theft
— A damp night — In the Qara Mountains — A discussion on
religious customs — The frankincense tree - Frankincense
groves— Innocent salacity — Hanun and Ghabartan — The
Place of Tombstones— Ancient monuments, inscriptions
and religious cults — Ghudun and Sa’atan — Astronomical
observations — Chronometers — Ista — My first oryx — The
Virgin and the Unicorn — Beetles and lizards.

XI. NEJD. LIFE IN THE SOUTHERN STEPPE

The fort of Shisur— War and death— A desert raid — The
southern steppe - Mugshin — Umm al Hait— The wadis of
the steppe — Tribal distribution — The life of the steppe —
The practice of cautery— Exorcism- Animal life— Dis-
appearance of ostriches — Lizards, edible and inedible.

XII. ALONG THE SOUTHERN FRINGE OF THE

SANDS

On tenterhooks — A thunderstorm — Water in a thirsty
land -A love lyric -A smoking party -The joys of the
smoker — The simple life— Astronomical observations —
Camp at Nukhdat Fasad— Care for camels— Religious
practices of the desert— A discussion on religion — The im-
portance of head-dress— A hungry camp at Mitan — The
road to Ubar— Stories of Ubar- Arabia and the Ice Age.

XIII. ACROSS THE MOUNTAINOUS SANDS OF URUQ-

ADH-DHAHIYA

Tired camels— Cold nights — Baking bread— Bread and
indigestion - The hare and the gazelle - The bellowing of
the sands — Wheezing sands — The great dunes — A false
alarm — The art of desert raiding — The laws of desert war —

CONTENTS

Soft sands — Khor Dhahiya — Christmas dinner — Exhausted
camels — Welcome water — The lore of the tracker — We
join forces with Shaikh Salih

XIV. A GEOGRAPHICAL NOTE ON RUB’ AL KHALI 180
The southern and eastern edges — Dwellers in the sands —
Altitudes in the central sands — Depression in the sands —

The question of quicksands.

XV. THROUGH THE SANDS OF DAKAKA. THE

SECOND RELAY OF CAMELS 185

Table etiquette— Hamad bin Hadi and his party— Pay day
and settling day in the desert— Man and mount— A bride
and her dowry— Table talk and table manners — The sands
of Dakaka— Hamad bin Hadi — The ritual and practice of
exorcism — The result— The hare, the women and the
Prophet- Man and the camel -Man and nature- Man
and the elements - Camel’s flesh, rice, dates and milk — A
practical joke.

XVI. AT THE WATER-HOLE OF SHANNA. THE

HALT BEFORE THE NORTHWARD DASH 204
Camel for dinner- Casting lots for meat— A novel tonic -
The Valley of Images — Traditions of the Bani Hillal— My
plans take shape — Unwanted guests — The hospitality of Bu
Zaid - His prowess - F resh arrivals — Musellim’s appeal —
Talib the Murri— Puritans of the desert.

XVII. THE NORTHWARD DASH 218

Departure from Shanna-Bu Zaid and his wife— Bu Zaid
and his son — Homely remedies — A desert home and its
furnishing- Purging waters — The skill of a guide- Death
in the desert - A Theseus of the sands - At Buwah - Umm
Malissa — The Sa’ar — The story of a raid.

XVIII. THROUGH THE CENTRAL SANDS 236

A scene of desolation - Animal life in deserts — Badawin as
companions - Parasitic vermin in the desert — The love of

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

Bu Zaid for Aliya— Umm Quraiyin and Sanam— Rama-
dhan begins at Farajja— Observance of the Fast— The
calendar of the sands — Archaeological remains — The Bu
Zaid trio and a. jinn — Bu Zaid and the governor - Bu Zaid
and the slave girl — The skill of the tracker — Detective
work in Muscat — The culprit detected — The tracks of the
wild— A Murra camp — Sandstorms in Ubaila— Sand in
my instruments— The homing instinct of the camel — A
pasture bewitched - Khiyut al Buraidan — Banaiyan.

XIX. A RETROSPECT 262

Geological structure— Orographical features — Distribution
of vegetation and water — Desert economy — Distribution of
camels— Camel saddles— Differences of dialect— Practice
of polygamy — Marital customs — Tribal politics — The sup-
remacy of Ibn Sa’ud — The politics of the southern steppe —

The Sa’ar menace.

XX. BANAIYAN TO THE SEA. THE LAST STAGE 274

An Arab in Erewhon-The story of Dhiyab and the
donkeys and the camels — Dhiyab and the jinn and Dalaiyan
the slave- Calvinists of the desert- Jiban and Lizba-Talib
takes charge - Mattins - Loading up, the morning start
and in the saddle - Trials of strength -The story of the
spider— ‘It is written’— Bu Zaid heroics— Bu Zaid, Alan
and Dhiyab— The stars in their courses— ‘Thalassa— Thal-
assa’— A new lake, Sabkha Amra-The Arab and his
camel — Moderation in fasting— ‘Still they rule — thank
God!’ — Desert generosity — Journey’s end.

LIST OF APPENDICES

I. ANTHROPOLOGICAL 301

‘The Racial Characters of the Southern Arabs,’ by Sir Arthur
Keith, f.r.s., Hunterian Professor, Royal College of
Surgeons, and Wilton Marion Krogman, ph.d.

[ix]

CONTENTS

PAGE

II. ZOOLOGICAL 334

By Dr. William Thomas Caiman, f.r.s., Keeper of Zoology,
British Museum, and with Notes on Natural History
Collections by Members of the Staff.

author’s appendices

III. LIST OF REGIONAL SANDS AND WATER-HOLES: AND TOPOGRAPHI-

CAL TERMS

37°

IV.

LIST OF FLORA

377

V.

LIST OF CAMEL BRANDS

379

VI.

LIST OF ARAB CHANTS

380

INDEX

383

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Description To face page

SANDS OF ARABIA FELIX FRONTISPIECE

A COCO-NUT GROVE AT DHUFAR: AN ILL-ASSORTED PAIR AT THE WELL 2
THE SULTAN’S FORT IO

A STREET SCENE IN DHUFAR IO

A GROUP OF SHAHARA TRIBESMEN 24

A GROUP OF YAF‘l TRIBESMEN 24

A GROUP OF QARA TRIBESMEN 25

A GROUP OF RASHID AND MURRA TRIBESMEN 25

A SLAVE DANCE 34

RUINS OF BALID 38

A SHAHARI AND SNAKE 42

IN THE QARA MOUNTAINS: LOOKING DOWN INTO WADI NIHAZ 48

QARA MOUNTAINS: ROCK CAVES 50

QARA MOUNTAINS: ROCK CAVES 50

QARA MOUNTAINS: THE DAHAQ 54

OUR FIRST HYENA: THE SKIN FOR THE MUSEUM: THE FLESH FOR ’aLI

al dhab’an ( on right) 62

HAIR CUSTOMS (GIRLS) 7O

HAIR CUSTOM (MARRIED WOMAN) 70

HAIR CUSTOM (UNCIRCUMCISED BOY) 74

A GROUP OF MOUNTAIN MEN 74

BELOW KHIYUNT — TYPICAL MEADOWS 80

EXORCISM OF EVIL EYE 80

THE SPRING OF KHIYUNT 82

LOOKING DOWN INTO WADI ARBOT FROM FUZAH 98

IN THE BED OF WADI ARBOT I O4

SHAIKH SALIH BIN KALUT 108

A FRANKINCENSE TREE 122

TRILITH INSCRIPTIONS
TRILITH MONUMENTS
A GROUP OF MOUNTAIN MEN

A SON OF THE STEPPE: A BAIT IMANI

[xi]

page 127
to face page 1 28

136

138

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Description To face page

THE WILD-DATE GROVE OF MUGSHIN I 4 O

AN UPPER WADI COURSE 142

A MIDDLE WADI COURSE 1 42

A FRINGE OF THE SOUTHERN SANDS 1 50

HALT TO GRAZE IN THE HUNGRY SOUTHERN BORDERLANDS 1 50

A SON OF THE SANDS 1 56

THE RIDGES OF THE DUNES I JO

A GYPSUM PATCH IN THE SOUTHERN SANDS I 74

WATERING AT KHOR DHAHIYA I 74

MARCHING IN THE MIGHTY URUQ-ADH-DHAHIYA I 78

MARCHING IN DAKAKA I 92

TYPICAL DAKAKA SANDS 1 94

SLAUGHTERING A DYING CAMEL FOR THE POT 21 6

MY MURRA GUIDES, HAMAD BIN HADI AND TALIB 21 6

IN NORTH-WESTERN DAKAKA 222

A SMALL MURRA ENCAMPMENT 224

TYPICAL SUWAHIB SANDS 226

a new (?) fox (sp. fennec) 236

AN eagle’s NEST 236

TYPICAL SANDS OF SANAM 238

HALT FOR PRAYER 244

IN COLD AND HUNGRY UBAILA 244

haluwain: an aqal water-hole 294

A NEW lake: sabkhat amra 294

OUR LAST WATERING AT Na’aIJA 296 •

THE SHAIKH OF QATAR’S FORT AT DOHA 296

A QATAR GROUP. THE SHAIKH {centre)'. MY HOST, SHAIKH

MUHAMMAD BIN ’ABDUL LATIF AL MANa’ {right) AND SALIH 298

MY PARTY 298

[xii]

i

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

ILLUSTRATIONS FOR APPENDIX I

By Sir Arthur Keith, F.R.S., M.D., etc., and Dr. IV. M. Krogman, Ph.D.

Figure Description.

I. A CHART SHOWING COMPARATIVE SIZE AND SHAPE OF HEADS OF

NATIVES OF NORTH AND SOUTH ARABIA

page 307

2. an omani {in profile)

to face

page 310

3. AN OMANI {full face)

55

55

310

4. an Armenian {in profile)

55

55

310

5. a madrasee {in profile)

55

55

310

6. the hasik skull {in profile)

page 314

7. the omani skull {in profile)

55

3 i 5

8. the hasik skull ( vertical )

55

3 U

9. the omani skull {vertical)

55

3*7

10. a yaf‘i {in profile)

to face

page 326

11. a yaf‘i {full face)

55

55

326

12 . QARA AND ALBINO

55

55

326

13. A GROUP OF MAHRA

55

55

326

14. A GROUP OF SHAHARA

55

55

330

15 . A CEPHALIC CHART TO SHOW THE POSITION OF

THE VARIOUS

SOUTH ARABIAN TRIBES MEASURED BY CAPT. B.

THOMAS

page 328

l6. HAMUMI AND KATHIRI

to face

page 330

17. A masha*! {in profile)

55

55

332

18. a masha‘i {full face)

55

55

332

1 9. a kathiri {in profile)

55

55

332

20 . A KATHIRI {full face)

55

55

332

21 . A GROUP OF SHAHARA AND KATHIR CHILDREN

55

55

332

22 . A GROUP OF SHAHARA AND KATHIR CHILDREN

55

55

332

MAPS

THE RUB’ AL KHALI

SKETCH MAP OF THE QARA MOUNTAINS

CHART SHOWING DISTRIBUTION OF TRIBES MEASURED

[ Xili ]

End of hook
page IOI

33 °

FOREWORD

p" "^homas shocked me when he asked for a foreword
to his great journey-book, not because introductions

Jl put me off (he may as reasonably enjoy them,
perhaps) but because he had recourse to me. It took some
while to think out so strange a lapse.

You see, in my day there were real Arabian veterans.
Upon each return from the East I would repair to Doughty,
a looming giant, white with eighty years, headed and
bearded like some renaissance Isaiah. Doughty seemed a
past world, in himself; and after him I would visit Wilfrid
Blunt. An Arab mare drew Blunt’s visitors deep within a
Sussex wood to his quarried house, stone-flagged and hung
with Morris tapestries. There in a great chair he sat,
prepared for me like a careless work of art in well-worn
Arab robes, his chiselled face framed in silvered, curling
hair. Doughty’s voice was a caress, his nature sweetness.
Blunt was a fire yet flickering over the ashes of old
fury.

Such were my Master Arabians, men of forty, fifty years
ago. Hogarth and Gertrude Bell, by twenty years of
patient study, had won some reputation, too; and there
were promising young officers, Shakespear and Leachman,
with a political, Wyman Bury, beginning well. To aspire
Arabian-wise, then, was no light, quick ambition.

They are all gone, those great ones. The two poets were
full of years and in high honour. Naturally they died.
The war burdened Hogarth and Gertrude Bell with
political responsibilities. They gave themselves wholly,
saw their work complete and then passed. The three

[xvj

FOREWORD

younger men died of their duty, directly; and that is why
Thomas must come down to me.

I suppose no new Sixth Former can help feeling how
much his year falls short of the great fellows there when he
joined the school. But can the sorry little crowd of us
to-day be in the tradition, even ? I fear not. Of course the
mere wishing to be an Arabian betrays the roots of a
quirk; but our predecessors’ was a larger day, in which the
seeing Arabia was an end in itself. They just wrote a
wander-book and the great peninsula made their prose
significant. (Incidentally, the readable Arabian books are
all in English, bar one; Jews, Swiss, Irishmen and What-
nots having conspired to help the Englishmen write them.
There are some German books of too-sober learning and
one Dutch.) Its deserts cleaned or enriched Doughty’s
pen and Palgrave’s, Burckhardt’s and Blunt’s, helped
Raunkiasr with his Kuweit, Burton and Wavell in their
pilgrimages, and Bury amongst his sun-struck Yemeni
hamlets.

Our feebler selves dare not be Arabians for Arabia’s
sake - none of us save Rutter, I think, and how good, how
classical, his book! The rest must frame excuses for
travelling. One will fix latitudes, the silly things, another
collect plants or insects (not to eat, but to bring home), a
third make war, which is coals to Newcastle. We fritter
our allegiances and loyalties.

Inevitable, of course, that these impurities should come.
As pools shrink they stench. Raleigh could hearten my
ancestor- ‘Cozen, we know but the hand’s-breadth of our
world’ - but since him Arctic and Antarctic, the wastes of
Asia and Africa, the forests of America have yielded their
secrets. Last year I could have retorted - ‘There is but a

[ xvi ]

/

FOREWORD

hand’s-breadth we do not know’ - thinking of that virgin
Rub’ al Khali, the last unwritten plot of earth big enough
for a sizable man’s turning in twice or thrice about, before
he couches. However, only these few paragraphs of mine
now stand between appetite and the tale of its conquest.
To-day we know the whole earth. Would-be wandering
youth will go unsatisfied till a winged generation lands on
the next planet.

Few men are able to close an epoch. We cannot know the
first man who walked the inviolate earth for newness’ sake:
but Thomas is the last; and he did his journey in the
antique way, by pain of his camel’s legs, single-handed,
at his own time and cost. He might have flown an aeroplane,
sat in a car or rolled over in a tank. Instead he has snatched,
at the twenty-third hour, feet’s last victory and set us free.
Everything having been once done in the slowest fashion
we can concentrate upon speed, amplifying the eye of the
tortoise by the hare’s and the bird’s. All honour to Thomas.
The Royal Geographical Society itself forgives, bemedals
its supersessor . . . also he has an o.b.e.

I will not say how much I like this book, lest Jonathan C.
dig out the odd sentence for his blurb. Thomas let me read
the draft, and I then did my best to comment usefully;
once remarking that the tale was good enough for his
journey - no faint judgment, set against what I think the
finest thing in Arabian exploration. As he tells it, the
achievement may read easy, because he is a master of every
desert art. Here once more is the compleat Arabian traveller
enshrined. Not twice but twenty times his tiniest touches
set me remembering that wide land which I liked so much,
twenty years ago, and hoped never to feel again. Thence,
I suppose, the reason of my writing him this useless foreword;
b [ xvii ]

FOREWORD

that and my understanding of his risks. Only by favour of
a propitious season could this very rare individual, after
infinite care and tact in preparation, have gambled his life
upon the crowning solidarity which the desert owes to
Ibn Saud, and won through. Thomas is as fortunate as
deserving.

t. e. s.

[ xviii ]

TO

Sir ARNOLD WILSON, K.C.I.E., C.M.G., C.S.I., D.S.O.

TENACIOUS IN COUNSEL, SWIFT IN ACTION
TO WHOSE ADVICE AND ENCOURAGEMENT
IN THE YEARS I918-I93I

MY JOURNEYINGS IN ARABIA OWE THEIR INSPIRATION
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED
IN ADMIRATION AND GRATITUDE

He set my feet upon the rock, and ordered my goings

Ps. xl. 2

PREFACE

I n the preparation of this book I have made no attempt
to collate the scanty scientific observations of earlier
travellers in adjoining regions which may, or may
not, have some scientific bearing upon the problems I
have touched upon. To have done so, indeed, would have
been beyond the scope of a personal record. Hence the
reader is spared an impressive bibliography. My endeavour
has been to set forth as a straightforward narrative the
things that I saw and heard, and the experiences that
befell me. If in the fulfilment of that task I have fallen
short of standards that have been set me by my predecessors
in the sphere of Arabian travel, I would plead that the
narrative has been written amongst many other preoccu-
pations in the few months since my return from Arabia.
Where, in recording conversations and folk stories, Arabic,
Mahri or Shahari words are used, I have transliterated
them in accordance with the local dialects in which they
were spoken, and have eschewed the Arabic lexicon.

I am indebted to Sir Arthur Keith who, in association
with Dr. W. M. Krogman, has contributed a valuable
Appendix to this work, not only for much kindly en-
couragement, but for a synthesis of my anthropological
observations and measurements, by which they come to
have a scientific meaning.

I have to thank the Royal Geographical Society for
much assistance in collating my astronomical observations
on this and on previous journeys, and in the preparation
of the map which accompanies this volume; and especially
the President, Admiral Sir William Goodenough, the

[xxi]

PREFACE

Secretary, Mr. A. R. Hinks, and the Map Curator, Mr.
A. S. Reeves.

Dr. W. T. Caiman and other members of the staff of
the Natural History Museum, South Kensington, have
been good enough to permit me to publish as an Appendix
their notes on the specimens I collected.

The laborious task of reading the manuscript has been
undertaken by friends — Aircraftman T. E. Shaw (Colonel
Lawrence), who has been so good as to contribute a fore-
word; Professor H. A. R. Gibb, to whom I am also
grateful for a number of valuable comments and sug-
gestions; Mr. R. W. Bullard, H.B.M.’s Consul-General at
Leningrad and formerly H.B.M.’s Consul at Jeddah, and
Sir Arnold Wilson, my former chief in Mesopotamia. But
for their advice and help it would not have been possible
for me to have passed this book through the press without
considerable delay.

BERTRAM THOMAS

East India United Service Club,
St James’s Square,

12 th December 1931.

[ xxii ]

INTRODUCTION

A rabia felix! Strange that the epithet ‘Happy’
should grace a part of the earth’s surface, most of
it barren wilderness where, since the dawn of
history, man has ever been at war with his environment
and his neighbour. Yet there can be no mistaking the
classical geographers. To Strabo, Pliny, and Ptolemy,
the term Arabia Felix served for the entire peninsula south
of the Syrian desert (Arabia Deserta) and the mountains
about Sinai (Arabia Petraea). True, the term consorts
ill with the horrid wastes of Rub’ al Khali that form no
small part of Arabia, but there lies in the central south,
bordering the Indian Ocean, a land at once of rare physical
loveliness and of ancient fame. If there be any region in
Arabia entitled to the epithet ‘Happy,’ other than the
Yemen, whose glories were well known to the ancients,
it is this province of Dhufar, an Arcadia of luxuriant forests
that clothe steep mountains overlooking the sea, of per-
ennial streams and sunny meadows, of wide vistas and
verdant glades. Here, according to the writer of Genesis,
Jehovah had set the limit of the known world ‘as thou goest
east unto Mount Sephar’; hither came the ancient
Egyptians for frankincense to embalm their sacred
Pharaohs; here, may be, were hewed the pillars of Solo-
mon’s Temple, if indeed Dhufar be not the site of Ophir
itself, and the traditional market for ivory and peacocks’
feathers.

I have attempted to set down in the pages that follow a
narrative of my recent camel journey across Rub’ al Khali,
and of my researches in this fair province of Dhufar, the

[xxiii ]

INTRODUCTION

gateway of that journey, and to me the true Arabia Felix
of to-day.

The virgin Rub’ al Khali, the Great Southern Desert!
To have laboured in Arabia is to have tasted inevitably of
her seduction, and six years ago when I left the Adminis-
tration of Transjordan for the Court of Muscat and Oman
I already cherished secret dreams. The remote recesses of
the earth, Arctic and Antarctic, the sources of the Amazon,
and the vast inner spaces of Asia and Africa, have one by one
yielded their secrets to man’s curiosity, until by a strange
chance the Rub’ al Khali remained almost the last consider-
able terra incognita , which is surprising considering the
great antiquity of settled Arabia, the border lands of which
touched the early civilisations of Egypt and Babylonia.

Yet Arabia has remained the forbidden land. Through-
out the centuries scarce twenty European explorers have
been able usefully to penetrate to her inhospitable heart.
For this there are two main reasons. First, lack of rain
and the merciless heat of the Arabian desert permit of but
scattered and semi-barbarous nomad societies, which are
at such perpetual war that, even for themselves, life is
insecure. Secondly, the religion of these desert men, at
least in practice, is fanatical and exclusive. From time to
time they hold it virtuous to enforce Islam with the sword.
In Arabia proper all European visitors have been indi-
vidual men, and only once in all her history, and that in
Roman times, has she - the then supposed Eldorado -
excited the cupidity of European invaders, so that among
her inhabitants, left so severely to themselves, insularity,
bigotry, and intolerance are indigenous growths with a
long pedigree. Hence an area equal to half the superficies
of Europe had remained a blank on our maps.

[ xxiv ]

INTRODUCTION

It had fascinated Richard Burton, who in 1852 offered
his services to the Royal Geographical Society for the
purpose of what he termed ‘removing that opprobrium to
modern adventure,’ but he succumbed to official obstruc-
tion and never put his plans to the test. I enjoyed ad-
vantages. Thirteen years of post-war service in various
political capacities on three sides of Arabia enabled me to
acquire a peculiar knowledge of tribal dialects and of
Arab ways, and to become acclimatised. I had addressed
myself for years past to two problems - how to find an
avenue of approach to the interior and how to cultivate
the tribes there. As a Minister of the Council of the State
of Oman, my name came to be known throughout south-
east Arabia; it was because I was the Sultan’s Wazir and
because of the cordial relations existing between the Ruler
and myself that I was brought into personal touch with
the most influential Arabs of that part. Hence a general
attitude of tolerance towards me, an Englishman and a
Christian, without which I could never have dreamt of
moving off the beaten track.

Then, too, I knew the mind of authority and so avoided
the pitfall of seeking permission for my designs. Was
not the lesson of Burton before me? The British official
attitude, with which, let me add, I am in general sympathy,
is, in view of the anarchy that normally prevails in Desert
Arabia, inimical to exploration. The good official must
avoid responsibility and commitments, and to learn of, and
not forbid, an expedition implies tacit authorisation. So
my plans were conceived in darkness, my journeys
heralded only by my disappearances, paid for by myself and
executed under my own auspices. Throughout my service
in Muscat I elected to spend my summers there, to save

[ xxv ]

INTRODUCTION

my local leave (intended by authority to be spent in India
to escape the heat of Muscat), for exploration of Arabia
during the winter, the only time when it is physically
possible.

In this way piece by piece I began to explore and map
the Rub’ al Khali. In the winter of 1927-28 I made a
600-mile camel journey through the southern borderlands
from the toe of Arabia nearest India to Dhufar; in 1929-30
I explored the steppe for 200 miles north of Dhufar to the
edge of the sands. On these occasions I dressed as a Badu,
spoke nothing but the local dialect, lived as one of the
people, and eschewed tobacco and alcohol to win a reputa-
tion for orthodoxy that would ultimately help me in the
crossing of the Great Desert from sea to sea.

These journeys showed me the error of the common
impression that this part of Arabia could be best explored
by the modern means of cars and aircraft. It had been
proposed that our ill-fated R.101 should fly over this
unknown desert on her return journey from India. Three
years earlier an enterprising American millionaire had
conceived a similar plan, for which he proposed hiring an
airship, and I was tentatively approached to be a member of
his expedition. I was not sorry when his plan failed to
mature, because my experience taught me that, useful as
such transport could be in its time and place, no positive
scientific results could be anticipated from it. Problems
that awaited solution were the discovery of the structure
and slope of South Arabia, its drainage and geological
formation, and the filling in of the great empty spaces on
the map; the fauna, the human inhabitants, their racial
and linguistic affinities, their manners and customs, and
way of life. These objectives could not in any single

[ xxvi ]

INTRODUCTION

instance have been usefully investigated by an air survey,
not a name would be added to the map, not a single fact
of anthropological, zoological, or geological and few of
geographical importance be established.

Also there seems something indelicate in the intrusion
of Western machines into these virgin silences; a feeling
not to be confused with the thrill of the unknown, bounded
here by the rim of the inverted bowl of the heavens, or
with the mental stimulus that comes from plans in the
slow process of precarious accomplishment. But all these
things count. And to one who has experienced them, who
has learned to talk with his only companions for months
on end - rude and unlettered brigands of the desert though
they be, and to admire some of their virile qualities, the
camel-back and the long marches go to make the magic of
Arabia.

[ xxvii ]

ARABIA

Far are the shades of Arabia,

Where the Princes ride at noon,

’Mid the verdurous vales and thickets,

Under the ghost of the moon;

And so dark is that vaulted purple
Flowers in the forest rise

And toss into blossom ’gainst the phantom stars
Pale in the noonday skies.

Sweet is the music of Arabia
In my heart, when out of dreams
I still in the thin clear mirk of dawn
Descry her gliding streams;

Hear her strange lutes on the green banks
Ring loud with the grief and delight
Of her dim-silked, dark-haired Musicians
In the brooding silence of night.

They haunt me — her lutes and her forests;

No beauty on earth I see

But shadowed with that dream recalls

Her loveliness to me:

Still eyes look coldly upon me,

Cold voices whisper and say —

‘He is crazed with the spell of far Arabia,

They have stolen his wits away.’

WALTER DE LA MARE

[ xxix ]

ARABIA FELIX

I: A PROPITIOUS START
AND AN EARLY CHECK

I t was midnight of the 4th~5th October 1930. The
little Arab port of Muscat lay asleep. Only one of its
inhabitants, albeit Prince amongst them, Saiyid Sa’id
bin Taimur, had, in the absence of his father the Sultan,
been taken into my confidence and made privy to the
activities of the beach. There, a badan (small country
rowing boat) was hauled close inshore and my faithful
servant Muhammad bore to her his master’s mysterious
boxes, his gun and camel saddles. I was secretly em-
barking on my long-cherished ambition to unveil the
unknown southern Arabian desert. To-morrow, the
news of my disappearance would startle the bazaar and a
variety of fates would doubtless be invented for me by
imaginations of Oriental fertility.

H.M.S. Cyclamen lay twinkling in the inner anchorage,
and I went alongside to collect a mascot which Pemberton,
her pilot, who had just been supping with me, would, he
had said, leave with the ‘hand’ on watch. Thence my
Baluchi boatmen, sworn to future secrecy, pulled on into
the open sea. The brilliant light of the full moon allowed
immediate introduction to my mascot - it was Walter de
la Mare’s poem, ‘Arabia’ - and, of more immediate im-
portance, I could reassure myself of the contents of the
cable in my hand:

‘s.s. British Grenadier arriving 6.0 a.m. Sunday three
miles off-shore Muscat - Master.’

The dark mass of the 10,000 -ton oil tanker came

A [I]

A PROPITIOUS START

looming up. A flag which I flew by arrangement did
its work; I was quickly transhipped, and the British
Grenadier , homeward bound, w r as on her course
again ere four bells had struck, bearing me away from
Muscat.

I planned to be landed at Dhufar half-way along the
southern coast of Arabia if weather conditions at the end
of this south-w r est monsoon season would permit, or failing
that, to be dropped into the first Arab dhow we encountered.
Next day the freshening wind slightly reduced our speed,
and the prospect of making Salala in daylight grew
doubtful. To ‘stand off’ all night was not to be enter-
tained, and so it was an Arab dhow that we made for
when we saw one. Her crazy little dinghy came along-
side in response to our siren; Muhammad and I, dressed
in Arab kit, slipped over the side and down the pilot
ladder. My boxes made a precarious load, but she was
equal to our demands, and carried us safely over the long
undulations of the swell to the anchored dhow. The British
Grenadier signalled ‘good luck’ and went forging ahead,
soon to be hull-down in the grey watery solitudes where
the sun had set.

The Arab captain of Bath as Salaam , for that was the
dhow’s name, shook his head when I spoke of landing;
he had, in fact, quite other views. A ground swell, even
in the mildest weather, runs vigorously along these gently
shelving beaches, and sends huge rollers crashing inshore.
A whaler or other English-built boat would surely capsize
and break up, but the local banush (of sewn timbers),
craftily handled by the fisherfolk, comes riding safely
through, despite moments when it seems to stand giddily
on end and one looks on apprehensively, knowing that the

[ 2 ]

COCO-NUT GROVE AT DHUFAR: AN ILL-ASSORTED PAIR AT THE WELL

DISEMBARKATION

sea, a boiling cauldron in the vicinity, would show small
mercy to a swimmer.

Mindful of my chronometers, I persuaded the captain,
after much argument, to make for Risut, a sheltered bay
down the coast. Two hours after the lug had been
bent and hoisted, it still flapped listlessly, while the un-
changing view of the white fort and mosque, midst a
coco-nut grove backed by the blue Oara Mountains, which
constitutes all that is to be seen of Dhufar from the sea,
showed that we had scarcely moved one way or the other.

A playful whale helped to beguile the moments - a
ponderous dark green monster that came and lay alongside
us like a submarine beside its parent ship, proud to prove
itself not much smaller than the Fat A as Salatn. It
seemed to me perilously friendly as it dived just under us,
to rise but a few feet away and break surface with a snort,
before sinking heavily again, with a little wash and a
multitude of bubbles to mark its going. Nor were our
sailors unconcerned. With an eye on our dinghy, which
lapped about astern of us, they kept up a frightening din
by drumming empty kerosene tins. The wind freshened
to deliver us, and by noon we came close hauled to Risut 1
where I landed.

And so into the saddle. We hugged the shore till w r e
passed Auqad (Abkid), a small village in the plain, and
thence rode along the edge of a coco-nut palm grove to
make the fort of Dhufar at sunset on 8th October. Here,

1 The adventurous Portuguese of the sixteenth century, in their day
the most gallantly ruthless of Europeans in Asia, thought Risut worthy of
their steel and blood; a flight of steps and some ruined fortifications still
stand memorial to them. To-day Risut is the only possible seaplane base
on this stretch of central South Arabian shore for some hundreds of miles
during the summer monsoon months.

[3l

A PROPITIOUS START

very tired after a sleepless twenty-four hours, I was to
occupy my old room in the keep. But it was not a kindly
night. Mosquitoes were legion and a swarm of yellow
hornets were building themselves a house in the rafters
above: a tiny insect, too, invisible as a sandfly but not less
of a torment, took toll of my blood.

Salala knew of my presence: it must not know of my
plans. Secrecy was imperative. To disclose them would
be to invite hostility and the news would spread abroad, as
all news spreads in illiterate Arabia, with the speed of the
telegraph and unauthorised accretions that would not
disgrace a London evening newspaper.

Where was Sahail the Rashidi? So much for a Badu’s
pledged word. I had heaped riches on this member of
my last year’s caravan and made a secret agreement that
he should meet me at Salala in this mid moon of Rabi’a
al Awwal with a camel party to take me into the great
sands. He had sworn that only death would prevent his
coming. Devious enquiries showed that he had not been
heard of in Dhufar since he had gone off to his tribe with
the two hundred dollars and a dagger - immense fortune -
I had secretly given him then. If this and the promise of
more had failed to bring him to fulfil a solemn promise I
despaired of my prospects. The Rashid, to which he be-
longed, is the only genuine tribe of the southern sands,
and without their assistance any dream of a crossing were
vain.

The desert news in Dhufar was bad. War! The Rashid
and the Sa’ar were fighting, the former my hoped-for
friends, the latter their powerful hereditary enemies of the
northern Hadhramaut - an ancient blood-feud. It followed
that the immediate hinterland was menaced by raiders or

[ 4 ]

TROUBLE IN THE INTERIOR

worse. It seemed that Sahail, with the best of intentions,
might be unable to raise a party of his fellow-tribesmen
to run the gauntlet to the coast for me. His tribe would
either be engaged in offensive operations in the Hadhra-
maut or have withdrawn themselves for refuge into the
depths of the sands. Here was a deadlock. For me the
door to the sands seemed bolted and barred.

I could see no way out. Two Rashidi tribesmen, Ma’yuf
and Khuwaitim, had come to Dhufar for the frankincense
harvest, and I sent for them, for though without camels
and out of touch with the tribe, they might yet be know-
ledgeable. However, it is difficult to gain an Arab’s con-
fidence without giving him yours, and it would have been
perilous to show my hand prematurely, so we conferred
daily for some days till I gathered that the Rashid tribe
might be distant a month’s march anywhere from north
to west, and certainly indisposed to leave their sandy
sanctuary.

I should be obliged in the happiest event to arrange a
separate caravan, if I could, to take me to some water-hole
on the edge of the sands (there were but three possible
ones) and trust to the Rashidis’ ability and willingness to
come there to meet me and carry me forward. But the
unpleasant experience of my journey of the year before
had taught me the limitations of mountain caravans, of
men’s alarm for themselves and their camels even when
there was no war in the air. The Acting-Governor to
whom I dared reveal only this part of my plans tried
cajolery, but there is no compelling authority in these
mountains and I detected an undercurrent of hostility
that would have made it madness to embark with such
allies into the desert. My ambitious plans so carefully laid

[53

A PROPITIOUS START

and secretly cherished for the year past seemed to be
utterly at an end.

Would it be safe to confide in these two Rashidis ? The
only hope was to inspire them with confidence and gain
their loyalty by offering them the right inducement to
run the risk of taking a message to their shaikh, and the
right inducement to the shaikh to carry his tribe with
him. It was the moment for bold courses. I unfolded my
plans under their sworn oath; those plans were for the
shaikh’s ear only. There were to be glittering rewards.
A pact was sealed. They would do it. If Allah delivered
them from the Sa’ar, they would search the sands, and
if they found the Rashid, they knew their mission and
payment was to be by results.

Their parting remarks in true Badu vein showed what
manner of men they were.

‘Here, Khuwaitim,’ I said, ‘you have no rifle. Take this
one. It is a small present for you.’

‘What,’ came the reply as he took it from my hand and
examined it critically, ‘you are not going to give me any
ammunition with it ?’ Badu ingratitude or Badu casual-
ness? Bounty coming to him he ascribes to the will
of God. My gift of the rifle had little to do with any
volition of mine; it was inevitable; it was what Allah had
ordained.

The departure w r as postponed till after the midday
prayer in the mosque. I, restless under delays already,
had suggested leaving at once. They would not.

‘Are w'e not Muslims ?’ retorted Khuwaitim.

And so they set off on foot to the mountains where, by
a secret arrangement with an old fellow-traveller of an
early journey, Salim al Tamtim, they would be furnished

[ 6 ]

MY PLANS UNFOLDED

privily with his own best riding camels and so, none
knowing, disappear into the drought-stricken desert.

They knew not when they would return. Perhaps in
thirty or forty days, perhaps not at all.

If they could bring a party of men and camels from the
sands well and good; if not, I must accept failure.

On so slender a thread hung the prospect of even a start
to my cherished journey.

I must be resigned in any case to wait here long weeks
with no very strong hopes.

[ 7 ]

II: AT DHUFAR: ANARCHY,
TREACHERY AND HOSPITALITY

-yj -yv elow my window in the fort the palm-fringed beach
shelved down to the sea. At anchor rode a dhow
il J/ just arrived, eager from Basrah, with the first fresh
cargo of this season’s dates, announcing, by her gay
bunting and firing of her muzzle-loading mortar that she
was no stranger to Dhufar.

Along this seaboard the province of Dhufar 1 extends
from Hadhbaram to Dharbat Ali. It consists of a massif
3000 feet high running right down to the sea on east and
west, and retreating in the centre, to embrace the crescent-
shaped maritime plain of Jurbaib.

Judged by Arabian standards it is a province favoured by
Providence. It owes a unique climate to the ‘Indian’
south-west monsoon, which here makes a preliminary call
and during the summer months sprinkles these mountains
with a drizzling rain so that the region flows with milk
and honey. Just over the mountain divide flourish the
famous frankincense groves of Arabia. This precious
product, sent to the temples of India, wins back rice and
cloth, coffee and spices for its owner’s booths, and has been
the prosperity of Dhufar through the ages, though it were
well not to confuse it with the Dhufar of Arrian near
Sana‘ in the Yemen, a mistake made by Abul Fida‘.

The two main settled tribes of the province are the Qara
in the mountains, where they live by raising herds and

1 The word Dhufar has also a more limited application. It sometimes
stands for the capital of the province merely, that is, a group of three villages,
Salala, Hafa and A1 Husn, in a way corresponding with the Badu habit
of the sands where Hofuf is called only Hasa, and Doha, Oatar.

[ 8 ]

HISTORY OF DHUFAR

the rewards of frankincense; and A1 Kathir, who fish and
farm and trade from villages in the plain. For the rainy
months of summer when the seas are too stormy to be
usable by native craft, there is a general exodus 1 from the
plains to the mountains, where frankincense groves require
harvesters and milk is in abundance.

Well water is plentiful, generally at a fathom’s depth
round the villages, and but for the paralysing hand of a
wayward tribalism, artesian wells would probably make
the whole plain blossom. Beneath the coco-nut groves
wells, mostly served by slaves, bulls or camels, minister to
fields of lucerne, sugar cane, plantains, wheat, millet,
cotton and indigo. A sixteenth share of each crop must
go as taxes to government, whose coffers otherwise receive
only a nominal 5 per cent, share of the mountain produce.
IJere prevails the ‘good old rule, the simple plan, that he
shall take who has the power, and he shall keep who can,’
and if the Sultan’s writ runs strong along the coast, in the
mountains it is a doubtful and variable quantity.

Ethnologically Dhufar is as much an enclave as it is
geographically. Tribal tradition is one of anarchy - of long
internecine strife, alternating with short periods of sporadic
government. No recorded history is to be found among
the natives, though I was at pains to enquire from every
literate resident. But illiteracy is general, and only the
old Qadhi could tell a coherent though disconnected story
of Dhufar’s past. The people, composed of warlike and
rival tribes, have always found law and order irksome.

1 This movement finds a parallel in two other seasonal movements of
man in South-east Arabia - the migration to the gardens for the ripening
date-harvest of Oman, and to the Trucial coast for the summer pearl
fisheries.

[9]

AT DHUFAR

They love unfettered persona] liberty more than life, and
glory in their hereditary wars. The alternative of an
extraneously imposed authority has in the past been
acceptable to them only by force, or else as the lesser evil
after periods of exhaustion and, as the lessons of one
generation had to be re-learned by the next, no dynasty
has been able to entrench itself.

Historical landmarks are few. They begin in post-
Islamic times with the ruler Muhammad bin Ahmad al
Mingowi, whose ruined capital lies on the lagoon of Khor
Ruri. 1 Mingowi is an ancient name that comes more
readily to these people’s lips than any other, and almost
every ruin in the country is ascribed to him.

After him, in a.d. 1279, came Salim bin Idris al
Habudhi. Driven by drought from his native Hadhramaut
he put into Dhufar, first to covet, then to conquer it. In
the sixteenth century rose Saif al Islam al Ghassan, a scion
of Sana*, whose palace was the citadel of Balid, to-day the
most extensive ruins of the Dhufar plain. A hundred years
of tribal anarchy was ended by a Kathiri master of the
land, followed by yet another age without a name, lasting
for the whole of the eighteenth century. An independent
Saiyid, revered son of the Prophet, raised his standard
successfully in the first years of the nineteenth century
and endured for twenty-five years until the Qara killed him.

1 "I he ruins about Khor Ruri— Husn Mirahadh and the entrance of
Inqitat (Bent’s Khatiya) — occupy the probable site of the ancient port of
Moscha of the Periplus (Ptolemy’s Abyssapolis as suggested by Bent). The
Arab geographers give Murbat as the site of the ancient seaport and capital
of Dhufar, which lasted until the tenth century of our era. Modern Murbat
is twenty miles to the eastward of its prototype, which was here. And
Murbat in the Shahari tongue is Sik, which would appear to preserve the
important radicals of the name Moscha.

HEGEMONY OF SULTAN ESTABLISHED

Fifty years later, about 1880, the scene was braved by
Fadhul bin Aliyowi, a Hadhramauti, who came claiming
authority from the Ottoman Government, but he could
not maintain himself and was expelled.

Then it was that the people of Dhufar turned to the
Ruling House of Muscat to take over their country.
Though that was scarcely more than fifty years ago, A 1
Sa’idi influence grew to its present considerable propor-
tions, and if there is no part of the Sultanate to-day where
authority is wielded with more difficulty, nowhere is
authority wielded more salutarily. Yet the foundations were
laid in blood. That story is worth the telling, not so much
as a sketch of recent history, as for the light it sheds on
the psychology of tribal governors and governed in
remoter Arabia.

Saiyid Turki bin Sa’id, the grandfather of the present
Sultan, was the Ruler of Muscat to whom the Dhufaris
had turned for protection. Now Turki had a slave, one
Sulaiman bin Suwailim, a man in whom he reposed com-
plete trust; he had manumitted and exalted him to be
Counsellor, and Commander-in-Chief of his forces - not
an impossible destiny for a slave in Arabia. Sulaiman
enjoyed an immense prestige among the tribes of Oman
for his personal qualities. He was fearless, unscrupulous
and strong. If the lawless reputation of the Dhufaris was
deserved, no lesser man could be expected to establish
Muscat influence, with the little backing Muscat could
give. Sulaiman, therefore, it was that the Sultan sent to
Dhufar as his first Walt (Viceroy).

Did not the Ruler habitually address his slave as abana
(our father) ? said my informant, an old pensioned soldier
who had come to Dhufar in those far-off days with the

[11]

AT DHUFAR

original Army of Occupation and remained ever since.
’Abud bin ’Isa was a Nejdi, a fine old veteran with brown
flashing eyes, a heavy jowl and large ears that showed he
was no South Arabian. Like many of his kind, to Omanis
known as ahl al gharb (people of the west), he had left
his native country as a boy to come and take service in
the army of the Muscat Ruler, lured thither by the attrac-
tions of the pay - three dollars a month to a Badu of Inner
Arabia was in those days a glittering reward. And this
mercenary army was a pillar of strength to the Ruler of
a country riven by rival claimants to the throne; it was not
merely of good fighting stock, but of unswerving allegiance
because unaffected by local loyalties.

Eighteen of these Nejdis arrived with the Wali Sulaiman
to occupy Dhufar. It was a small force, but it enabled a
start to be made, and before the arrival of the Omani
garrison of a hundred askaris, Sulaiman had taken in hand
the building of a fort-prison at Salala on the Omani model,
impressing slave and dhaaj 1 labour for his purpose.

But the vigour of his activities, to which had been added
the collection of taxes, was not to tribal liking and dis-
contented murmurings soon arose from among the Oara.
A man of less resolution would have been intimidated.
Sulaiman was not to be deflected; his acts knew no modera-
tion, he behaved arbitrarily. Now came a challenge. One
of his soldiers was ambushed and murdered at Hamran,
where a picket had been placed over the water. But even

1 Dha'af. Dhufar has a caste system below the noble rank of tribesman.
T hus there are the Bahara and Dhd af as well as the slave community.
The Dhd af (literally, ‘weak,’ though the connotation corresponds with the
Baiyasira of Oman) are a degree above the Bahara in the scale, in that their
women do not appear in public. Also only the Bahara and slaves fish.

[ 12 ]

A TYRANT RULES

Sulaiman dare not imprison Finkhor, the powerful shaikh
of the Qara section involved, though he must parry the
affront. A fight at Taqa, in which the government askaris
were supported by elements of A1 Kathir, produced no
casualties on either side - not an unusual state of affairs in
Arab warfare with shots exchanged at long range. But it
brought a feeling of relief, so that both sides could honour-
ably endure a peace. The place was in favour of Sulaiman,
for with the oath of allegiance came the present of a
hundred head of cattle.

With insufficient power to rule magnanimously, Sulai-
man continued to employ the terrorist methods that better
suited his character, and it was not long before the tribe
were once more on the war-path. A tribesman had in-
dulged in a time-honoured foray (the fear of raids from
the mountains is a daily dread in the plain to this day) and
Sulaiman imposed some exemplary punishment. This
was disproportionate in the tribal mind, which thereupon
flared up, and only a blockade of the mountains 1 - an
extremely bold course - brought them to their knees.

The cup of tribal wrath against Sulaiman was full, but
did not overflow till he left for Oman on leave, with every
apparent reason to be satisfied with the masterful accom-
plishments of his three years’ efforts. He set his two sons
’Ali and Mas’ad to rule in his place, and then the A1
Kathir, whose support of Sulaiman had made possible his
dealing with their old rivals, the Qara, now saw their
opportunity in Sulaiman’s absence and in the cellars of

1 The blockade applied only to the transport of sardines. The secret of
its success as a weapon lay in the fact that the mountain wealth is chiefly
in cattle, and at certain ‘dry’ seasons of the year, here, as in Oman, sardines
are the usual fodder.

[13]

AT DHUFAR

the fort which were full of tithe and customs levies - butter,
rice and dates. The instinct of avarice, abnormally
developed in the Badu, was astir. A plot was hatched. One
party of Kathir would bring a petition against another,
and as the case proceeded more Kathiri witnesses would be
sent for until the town was possessed by an army of them.
And so it happened. Suspicion would have arisen had
they come in any other circumstances. As it was the
government troops remained scattered over the plain on
their daily duties. This morning, like every other, the
two young governors sat at the gateway of the fort holding
the morning reception. The coffee cup had gone round
the large assembly of Kathir tribesmen present. The
moment had come. Consummate treachery! On a signal
from the leader the Badawin leapt up and fell upon their
hosts, sword in hand. ’Ali and Mas’ad, Sulaiman’s sons,
with their wretched soldiers were pitilessly murdered, the
Badawin rushed down and ransacked the cellars and then
razed the new government fort to the ground.

All that was left of Muscat government in Dhufar was
one Bakhit bin Nubi and forty soldiers who fled to Murbat
to take refuge with some friendly Qara. This Bakhit was
a negro and a character withal. He w r as a slave of Sulaiman,
for a slave may owm another slave or other chattels, though
without the powder of bequest, so that on his death his
goods revert to his master. Four months must elapse - the
south-west monsoon having cut communication with Oman
- before news could reach Muscat and reinforcements be
sent. Bakhit took upon himself to act, and his actions must
have been wise and courageous, for as the days passed and
the menace of retribution approached, he induced the
rebels to see that to support him was their safest course.

[H]

ARAB INSTABILITY

Events in Oman had necessitated the retention there of
Sulaiman, so that when later he came to Dhufar it was on
a temporary visit to discuss future dispositions. A British
man-of-war brought an Ambassador of the Sultan, the
erring tribes were punished, and their leaders abased; it
was too late for restitution except that the old fort doorway
was returned to adorn the bigger and stronger government
fort to be built on the site of the old one, where it stands
to this day. Bakhit was installed as Governor. His old
master Sulaiman (who was himself to die by the hand of
an assassin in Oman soon afterwards) left with him this
message: ‘If I hear that Bait Kathir have chosen a shaikh
amongst them and he lives, your head will be cut off.’
Bakhit did not falter. During his seven years of office the
ten ringleaders of the troubles were one by one quietly
despatched by slaves sent for the purpose. True, these
shaikhs had been granted a general amnesty by the Envoy
from Muscat, but that scarcely affected either party’s
conscience, for where treachery is a habit of mind, men
are actuated by the stern necessities of the moment, not
by any principles of morality.

Instability is the chief characteristic of any regime in
tribal Arabia. It is inherent in the Arab genius, and
springs from the preponderating part played by per-
sonalities and the relative unimportance of the machine.
Where the strong personality is of the government or is
well disposed to government all will be well. Where
stronger men are without, trouble lurks. Thus when in
the course of time Bakhit’s rule was replaced by that of
’Abdullah bin Sulaiman, a free man of weak character,
the prestige of government declined and the tribes ceased
to pay their dues. They despised the new Wali for his

[ 15 ]

AT DHUFAR

weakness rather than admired him for his benevolence,
so that he died unregretted by good men, leaving to his
successor - the present admirable incumbent - whose guest
I was for the moment, the task of re-establishing that
authority which he had so supinely relinquished.

As I stood on the old battlements reconstituting in my
imagination scenes such as these, horses were brought for
me to the gateway below from the Court stables - the only
specimens of their kind to be found within three hundred
miles. They were selected from a dozen or so which the
Sultan has brought from time to time, for he was much
attached to Dhufar, its gazelle-hunting and hawking, and
spent more than one summer there during my term of
office.

To-day I was riding out to Salala to call on Sa’ad bin
Abdul ’Aziz, the wealthiest merchant in the place, a man
of humble and obscure parentage, as the Arab merchant
prince often is. Our way lay past the tiny bazaar, out of
the town gateway, and through a deep coco-nut grove (in
Dhufar the coco-nut palm takes the place of the date palm
found elsewhere in Arabia) on through fields of cotton
and indigo and so across the strip of plain that fronts
Salala town. Imposing indeed are the lofty many-storeyed
houses of dazzling whiteness - the stone hewn from the
plain where they stand - the ornamentation 1 giving them
a semblance of dignified age which accords ill with the

1 A typical feature of the large houses and the mosques is this roof
ornamentation called tabashir ; it will be found at the corners of the roof
and at intervals along the sides. Its stepped design recalls the Nabatean
ornament at Petra and Mada’in Salih. I was told that it is met with in
Makalla and Sheher and elsewhere in the Hadhramaut, but I have not
met with it in Muscat or Oman.

[16]

A SOCIAL FUNCTION

dingy and squalid interiors. Sa’ad’s house rose like a
palace midway along the front of the town; but even there
we found its courtyard hot with flies and heavy with the
smell of its stalled cows. The narrowest of steps led thence
to the guest-chamber at the top of the house, a large room
with a fine central beam of Malabar teak upholding the
ceiling and admirably ventilated with many small unglazed
windows, for window-panes are unknown . 1 The furnishings
were few but luxurious. Every inch of floor space was
covered with carpets, pleasant individually, but inhar-
monious in the mass; a dozen mirrors at least, all life-size
and gold-framed, adorned walls as vain as those of any
tailor’s closet; alcoves were stuffed with silver incense-
burners, coffee appurtenances, and gaudy bric-a-brac.
We trooped in and sat in line round the four sides of the
room, I being motioned to a corner where there were a
few extra cushions, tough as medicine balls, but glad to
the Oriental eye in their bright scarlet or emerald-coloured
trappings. Only our host and his sons and domestic slaves
stood to do the honours beside a table arrayed with bottles
of almond syrup, coloured sherbets and fancy tumblers.
As in all social gatherings in Arab tribal towns, no woman
was to be seen or mentioned. T hose of any standing at all
had, as always, hidden themselves till strange men should
have left their house, and any furtive unveiled figure to
be seen in the courtyard was surely that of a slave girl.

Next to me sat old Salim al Sail, another merchant, a
God-fearing man and a Solomon among his kind. Human
frailty made him claim descent from the noble Bait Ghassan,

1 Coco-nut palm is in universal use in Dhufar for window sashes and
ceiling rafters, and good and enduring material it is, in contrast to the fibrous
and inferior date-palm log of Oman buildings.

B [W]

AT DHUFAR

while all men whispered that he was a foundling child of
low Shahari origin that a mountain torrent had swept
down in a summer freshet. J Salim’s eyes, as became his
eighty years, were growing dim, though they were still
capable of a twinkle when he begged in secret for an
aphrodisiac. At other times, as now, he showed a wider
interest in mankind. ‘Are any of the nations at war.
Sahib ?’ ‘What has happened to the Germans ?’ And, ‘Are
the Italiyaniyin your friends ?’

Dhufar’s propinquity to Somaliland and Italian influence
in the Yemen may account for the fact that the Italians
loom larger in their minds than any other Europeans, and
I have never heard aught but good spoken of them and
their administration.

And now a mountain shaikh at my side was brightening
the conversation.

‘Why are you such big men, and we so much smaller?’

‘Perhaps on account of our soil and air,’ I said.

‘But Allahu ’ Alim (God is the knower) we are much
smaller than our forefathers. Look at their graves at Khor
Ruri - twenty paces long. They were that great.’

‘God is the knower,’ I returned, being careful not to
offend religious susceptibilities, for one commentator on
the Qur’an gives Adam’s height as thirty-six feet, and
other patriarchs in proportion (a figure modest in com-
parison with those given by others). ‘Is it not God’s
mercy ?’

1 The F our Seasons of the Year are called :

Kharif-. July to September — the rain months.
Surub: October to December.

Shitta : January to March.

Al Ga'idh : April to June.

[iB]

THE PRICE OF FREEDOM

‘How?’ said he.

‘It is difficult enough,’ I replied, ‘nowadays, with so many
men in the world, for all to find nourishment for stomachs
this size ’ (and I held out an imaginary football): ‘had we
kept so big we should have needed a sack of rice at every
meal; think of the cost!’

A general titter went round, and my questioner’s silence
showed that he was satisfied that the subject was exhausted.

A sailor, one Khamis of Auqad, was brought to my
notice as having visited my country. (The native has no
idea of the direction of Europe and points to the east, to
India, supposing that to be the Englishman’s home).
Khamis, a free man, yet was the father of a slave-born
child, for he had taken to wife another’s slave woman, so
by local canons the child belonged to her owner. The
three hundred dollars he had paid for the woman was the
price of her hand, not of her freedom, and he was now
engaged in paying a further five hundred dollars to her
master, to buy the freedom of his own offspring . 1

Fuwa/a, the light refreshment which is a feature of any
visit of courtesy, was brought in by a slave - a large dish-
laden tray of fids of beef grilled crisp and black, spaghetti
drenched in tomato sauce, and slices of pineapple. Coffee
went round after the tit-bits, and lastly the frankincense
burner which, however, was not held under the nostrils
for a few brief seconds, and handed thus from person to

1 I discovered there was an exception to this rule of a slave wife’s progeny
belonging exclusively to her owner, but it applies only to the Court. In
case of a Court male slave marrying a female slave of a private owner, the
progeny, as a Court privilege, must be shared. The result is that a private
owner will agree only reluctantly to a Court slave alliance because it is
unprofitable for him, and a Court slave finds it correspondingly difficult to
find a bride outside the circle of Court negresses.

[*9]

AT DHUFAR

person by a slave as in Oman, but left smouldering at my
side. And in this land of true frankincense, unexcelled in
the world, my host was surpassing himself by using an
imported substitute, inferior to my mind, but here more
costly. This was ’ aud , a kind of sandal-wood which I under-
stand serves for frankincense in European churches. ‘Ba d
al ’ aud la tagucT runs an Arab jingle, which means ‘After
the incense do not tarry.’ The offered incense is indeed a
sign not to be mistaken, so after a minute or two of courteous
silence one mutters ‘ tarakhkhus ’ (with your permission)
and rises to go.

‘We hope you are making a long stay,’ says my host,
partly by way of courtesy, partly to tempt a disclosure
of my plans.

‘Yes! I am on two months’ leave,’ I reply. ‘Shaikh
Hasan has agreed to take me up into his mountains for
some shooting next week; he has promised me a panther and
an ibex.’

I had barely risen the next morning to wind and record
my chronometers w'hen throbbing tom-toms and raucous
female voices attracted my notice. Soon through the
prison courtyard below came twenty young negresses,
dancing a sensuous measure, their heads poised in snake-
like detachment balancing full water pitchers. Here was
the Bathing Chorus, a recognised institution when the
Sultan or I wais in residence, and the tank in the bathroom
must needs be replenished daily. As they filed past the
doorway of my room they ceased to sing; a young one,
confident in her youth and greatly daring, risks what may
be almost a wink in my direction, for in their world of
Dhufar, they were none of them better than they should
be. On filing out each halts to turn and make obeisance.

[ 20 ]

THE BATHING CHORUS

A motherly old negress among them loiters to ask after
brothers and husbands in the Muscat Court, and have I
brought letters? She soon turns the conversation to the
question of customary payment, but with all the black
beauties agog in that expectation she is clearly no undis-
puted representative. Two parties at least are evident, both
animated by the single idea of bakhshish .

‘Have you counted us, O Wa2ir?’ shouts one. ‘Four and
twenty here, and four downstairs,’ says another (this an
unblushing lie).

‘Count us, O Wazir! Let your ‘servant Muhammad
count us!’

I smilingly promise them a basket of dates and some
dollars for the morrow, and they gaily respond by lining
up in my upper courtyard as for ‘Here we come gathering
nuts in May,’ descending the stairway after a final rol-
licking ballet, to more drum fingering and chanting. And
so I turn complacently to enjoy the bath they have pre-
pared for me while their strains grow fainter and fainter,
and at last are no more to be heard.

[ 21 ]

Ill: S K U L L-M EASURING AND DEVIL-
DANCING

‘TJ ^rom what Arabs are you?’ Thus has the question

N been put to me in the desert, by natives conscious
J V that I was of a race different from theirs, for the
word Arab is used by them to denote ‘people’ rather than
the particular race we mean.

But is it so certain that the Arabs are themselves racially
one? Neither Glaser the scholar, nor Burton the traveller
thought so. The former held the South Arabian to be
Hamitic and not Semitic. The latter declared that he had
found proof of three distinct races. Whatever the case,
Burton’s anticipation that ‘physiological differences suffi-
cient to warrant our questioning the common origin of the
Arab family would be found’ was a sound one. Such
differences I discovered in abundance in this central region
of South Arabia: not merely physiological, but cultural
and linguistic differences that constitute collectively a
serious challenge to the conception of a single racial entity
for the entire peninsula.

1 came indeed prepared with head callipers to make and
record skull measurements, for such measurements are
vital to anthropologists. 1 Of importance too are visual
observations of the foreigner domiciled for some years in
Arabia, for his mind becomes unconsciously stamped with
the physical characteristics of the natives, and is therefore
acutely aware of aberrations from racial types when he
meets them. Thus it was that after continuous residence
in Arabia from 1915 onwards, serving in capacities that

1 Sir Arthur Keith has graciously contributed as Appendix I his investi-
gations into these data.

[ 22 ]

RACIAL TYPES

brought me into close touch with the Arabs of Mesopotamia,
Transjordan and the Persian Gulf, I was impressed on
meeting the natives of central South Arabia - the Dhufar
‘bloc,’ with a feeling of some fundamental difference. The
Political Resident in Aden, Major-General Maitland,
recorded a similar impression in the following terms:

‘The people of Arabia belong to two distinct and apparently
quite different races. The common idea of the Arab type . . .
tall bearded men with clean-cut hawk-like face. The Arabs of
South Arabia are smaller, darker, coarser featured and nearly
beardless. All authorities agree that the southern Arabs are
nearly related by origin to the Abyssinians. Yet strange to say
it is the Egypto-African race who are the pure Arabs, while the
stately Semite of the north is Musta’rab . . . Arab by adoption
and residence rather than by descent.’

Arab scholars themselves have inherited a tradition that
their race is derived from two stocks, Oahtan and Adnan,
but tribes scattered over the peninsula to-day claiming
descent from one or other of these ancestors are of indistin-
guishable racial types. On the other hand, differences
noted by Burton and Maitland and Glaser, and in our own
generation by Rathjens, are well marked, and the tribes
thus differentiated do not coincide with the Oahtan-Adnan
demarcation.

None of these Europeans, moreover, could have been
familiar with the group of Dhufar tribes I encountered,
which there is very strong anthropological and linguistic
evidence for regarding as at most racially peculiar, at least
racially different.

Inscriptions and ruined cities in South-west Arabia bear
witness to ancient Minaean and Sabaean civilisations that

[ 2 3 3

SKULL-MEASURING

decayed before the rise of Islam in the seventh century of
our era. We know too of early “Abyssinian and Roman
invasions and of Greek and Aramaean settlements. Who
are these South Arabians? If the answer to the problem
rests with anthropologists, as it assuredly does, the collection
of relevant data was of never-failing interest to me on my
travels.

I had early entertained hopes of unearthing and sending
home ancient skulls, but the dangers of offending religious
susceptibilities in Arabia were great. To disturb a body
that has been given Muslim burial is the worst desecration,
and has been a fruitful source of trouble as when, for
instance, in Mesopotamia during the war, someone un-
wittingly drove a car through a derelict Arab cemetery.
Hence also the rock tombs faced with loose stones which
I had come upon in the Wadi Dhikur in 1927-28 were
forbidden ground. On my 1 929-1930 journey I had met
with better fortune, for at Hasik we passed a cave whose
entrance had been forced by a wolf or other wild animal.
It was daylight and the presence of my Arab companions
imposed restraint, but I contrived to halt near by, and no
one knew next morning that a skull found in the cave was
in my bedding - though the jawbone was missing and the
rest of the skeleton had wholly disappeared. I took it to-
Muscat and thence to the Royal College of Surgeons in
London. But in my house at Muscat where I unpacked
the treasure, my servant Mabruk, a manumitted slave,
became aware of his master’s queer hobby, and announced
next day that he had brought a present for me and pro-
duced from a bundle a complete human skull. Another
Arab servant emerged sniggering from behind the door
to explain that Mabruk had been overnight to his father’s

[ 2 4 ]

TAKING HEAD-MEASUREMENTS

burial-place, and was presenting me with a once vital part
of his revered parent. That night Mabruk, unrewarded
and rebuked, restored it to its resting-place. Whether
Arab feelings would have been hurt on religious grounds
in such a case, it is impossible to tell, certainly slaves do
not pray in this part of Arabia, and may not normally be
regarded as good Muslims.

To return to Dhufar and head-measuring, it was no
easy task to find willing subjects. There is always in the
minds of rude people the fear of magic or worse, while the
religious among them hate to be pawed by infidel hands.
In the desert I would not have dared risk putting callipers
over the head of a Badu - an uncouth tribesman might
have drawn his dagger, for at times Badawin have turned
against me for bringing out a camera at the wrong
moment - but here in Dhufar I felt I could safely work
upon prisoners, warders and old friends behind closed
doors, and with these and some enlightened foreign traders
I was able during my stay to make forty-five head-
measurements, covering a wide geographical range and to
take a hundred ‘type’ portraits.

The work was enlivened by many amusing episodes, but
was physically unpleasant, for the specimens were either
Badawin with tousled hair full of sandy and other accumula-
tions or sedentary townsmen whose locks were a mass of
grease from applications of coco-nut oil. One morning
my clients were to be Somalis, a breed which crosses the
Red Sea to set up as petty merchants in the bazaar or as
middlemen to contract frankincense orchards. Six of
them arrived, and averred in answer to my questions that
they were somal khalis , i.e. Somalis on both sides of the
family - a necessary condition, for specimens of mixed

[ 2 5 ]

SKULL-MEASURING

parentage are useless anthropologically, but on a closer
study their squat noses and receding head axes were so
obviously negroid that I dismissed them as unsuitable.
‘Are you quite sure you are pure-bred ?’ I asked a Somali
member of the police who was next. ‘I claim to be,’ he
replied, ‘but God is the knower, and then my mother.’

The wit enjoyed his own lewd joke and disappeared
laughing down the roof-steps, promising to appear on the
morrow with a number of equally uncontaminated fellow-
specimens.

Next came the government askaris. These mercenary
tribesmen of Hadhramaut or of the Aden hinterland who
take service with the Sultan of Muscat, like the Nejdis of
old, are labelled as Hadharim by the local Omanis. There
were forty on duty at Dhufar, so I had little difficulty in
finding six of undiluted tribal stock. These - of the Ahl
Yazid, Yahar, and Ahl Sa’ad sections of the Yafa‘ con-
federation, I measured and photographed, but I was soon
to discover that they objected to the term Hadharim as
applied to themselves. ‘ Hadharim to us. Sahib, are low-
caste inhabitants of Shahar and other non-tribesmen: the
genuine tribesman will be content only to be regarded as
belonging to one of two rival confederations, Yafa‘ and
Hamdan - none other!’ they said.

Next day I was measuring a member of another race
type, one ’ Ali al Dhab’an, a Badawi of the Mashai 4 that
roam the desert on the north side of the Hadhramaut.
’Ali, a very fine shot as Arabs go, had accompanied me on
my last year’s expedition to Mugshin, and was now my
daily companion, and a fount of desert erudition. He knew
the southern borderlands well, had shed Rashidi blood and
later taken a Rashidi girl to wife to avoid their vengeance.

[ 26 ]

A WARRIOR’S PRIDE

From me he wanted a parting present before going into
the Qara Mountains to demand four head of sheep from
A1 Kathir as part payment of blood-money for his son
accidentally killed by one of their number the year before.

What he wanted turned out to be a modest fifty rounds
of ammunition - the Badu will unblushinglv ask for the
moon !

‘No,’ I said, remembering ’Ali’s record and propen-
sities. ‘Certainly not!’ ’Ali was reputed to have taken
fifteen lives; the last murder, three years before, immedi-
ately followed a visit to my camp at Auhi: he had then shot
an ’Amari he met in the wilderness because he coveted
the wretch’s camel. The camel did not, alas, survive the
journey to Dhufar, and ’Ali had nothing to show for his
blood-guiltiness, which he ascribed cheerfully to Allah, and
himself felt not at all, but he dare not meet a man of that
tribe again. ‘I will give you three dollars, ’Ali,’ I added,
‘if you will come on a shooting expedition into the moun-
tains next week: but ammunition, no! You want it for
some evil purpose. I will be no party to violence.’

‘Then tell me how a man shall live ?’

‘Till the ground or fish.’

He looked at me incredulously. ‘That is not a man’s
work,’ he said.

‘Then what is a man’s work ?’

‘The rifle and janbiya (dagger).’

‘Nonsense,’ I returned. ‘Fighting is all very well when
the time for it comes, but how do you think we English
became strong if it was not by work ? How do you think
we get our ships and our rifles ?’

‘Money!’ he said laconically, and I knew it would be
idle to argue. A pause.

[ 2 7 ]

SKULL-MEASURING

‘O ’Ali! if every one lived by his rifle and janbiya ,
whence would we get food ? We owe what we eat to the
cultivator and the fisherman.’

‘But what qubaili (tribesman) would stoop so low?
Fishing! it is impossible! Tilling! Yes, I will ask Saiyid
Taimur (the Sultan) to give me a plot of land. Then I will
get a slave to till it for me.’

‘But why not till it yourself?’

‘Ah! never fear. I’ll pay the slave,’ said ’Ali, missing
the point, but adding ingenuously, ‘and I shall live on the
produce of the garden.’

How ’Ali was to come by a slave I had every reason to
shrink from imagining. Even in Dhufar three hundred
dollars would be a moderate price for a slave, and had
’Ali anything like that sum, the desert would call him
and he would invest the money in a she-camel. But ’Ali’s
flight of fancy had carried him into the clouds and he
now returned to earth.

‘Give me fifty rounds. Sahib!’ and he slithered the
ammunition belt round his body for me to see that it was
all but empty. I suppressed a smile at the incongruity of
his utter poverty with his opulent optimism.

‘ Wallahi ! I would rather ammunition than a camel,’ he
said. ‘The camel dies' on her master’s hands, but with
ammunition! I can repel my enemies when they come
after me, and kill an oryx when I am hungry.’

‘No, ’Ali! Come to-morrow and you shall have three
dollars, but mark you! behave yourself in the mountains,
or this is the end of our friendship.’

‘Let Saiyid Taimur put me on his pay-roll,’ said ’Ali as
he went away - he was, maybe, envisaging three dollars
a month - ‘and I will be a brother to all men.’

[28]

THE GOVERNOR OF DHUFAR

It was the Acting-Governor’s custom to call on me each
morning at the fort. Sa‘id bin Saif was yellow-faced, with
a long scraggy goatee and a miserable physique even for
late middle-age. His conversation centred round the
poverty of the Hukuma (government), the insufficiency of
his pay, and the demands of a large family: and in contrast
the vast sums of money the English must have, as shown
by official salaries. Sa‘id lamented his own miserable
portion and attributed both extremes to Allah. Work he
regarded as undignified, fit for slaves; his hands were pale
and delicate as a woman’s and his legs never carried him
faster than a slow, dignified walk, attended by a squad of
soldiers before and behind him. What he did diligently,
albeit with extreme deliberation, was to pray five times a
day. For the rest, he sat about aimlessly, his sleepy silences
broken only with pious ejaculations, 1 Al hamdu /’ Illahl
al hamdu Pill ah ’ - a most depressing companion.

There were distant sounds of revelry. A soldier rushed
to the roof and came back to report it was the slaves.
Drums in growing volume confirmed their approach and
we now all went to look down on an interesting spectacle.

The occasion of it was merely a slave’s death, but when
a negro here dies and is buried, instead of two Muslim
angels to share his tomb, an evil spirit enters to molest his
slumbers, and so the drums and the devil-dance are invoked
to drive away the tormentor.

‘God forgive them!’ murmured the sanctimonious Omani
at my side.

‘Drums aren’t acceptable to you?’ I questioned.

‘No, nor pipes; but these are slaves and know no better.’

‘Yet the Muqabil tribe in Oman have pipes?’ I said.

‘Yes! but they are Sunnis. We are Ibadhis, and in

[29]

SKULL- MEASURING

Ibadhi Oman we forbid these instruments of the
devil.’

Meanwhile the procession was making its brave way to
pay me respects inspired by hope of reward - a basket of
dates, perhaps, for death with them, as at an Irish wake,
is an occasion for feasting. The banner-carrier and drum-
mers moved slowly forward; the main body of negroes
about them, with staves held aloft, were dancing and
chanting, and a party of negresses came tripping along
in rear. As the fort gates were approached some of the
men rushed forward threateningly in a mock attempt at
forcing the doorway that was already open.

Within the courtyard a halt was cried and the rhythm
changed. With the drums and banners for a centre, the
men circled round in single file, hopping now on this foot,
now on that, and chanting some wild Swahili gibberish
while their women moved circumspectly around the outer
edge with curious measured step, their mantles lifted
suggestively before them. Other negroes detached them-
selves for a mock fight, one man who presumably im-
personated the evil spirit lying on the ground lashing
wildly about him, while would-be vanquishers assailed him
from all sides.

So many sightseers pressed into the outer gateway that
they made the exit of the Omani at my side impossible,
and he remained an involuntary spectator. He stood aghast
at this exhibition of paganism, which he would have
suppressed if he could, while I felt that I was the object
of his inward censure for my levity in taking a cine-picture
of the proceedings.

In the afternoon I was to witness more elaborate ritual
outside in the gardens, for the Sultan had forbidden the rite

[ 3 °]

NEGRO CUSTOMS

within city precincts and thereby won the praises of all
True Believers.

‘Did not these processions on the ’ Id of Nayruz (New
Year’s Day) with loud gibes enter the harlot’s house carry-
ing a kitten - her implied offspring ? But,’ said my pious
informant, ‘the Sultan’s action in suppressing this may have
been precipitate for, alas, since then promiscuity has
increased.’

The negro community is almost self-contained, and the
biggest single element in the population of the Dhufar
capital. Awwadh, a Court slave and most exalted above
his fellows, was their ab , a magistrate to whom negro
disputes were usually referred for settlement. Nor was he
without an assistant glorying in the high-sounding name of
naqib , but the rank and file of slaves are aulad and banat , i.e.
‘boys’ and ‘girls,’ euphemistic terms when they are applied
to wrinkled negroes and aged negresses.

Slaves may have their taboos. One here, for instance, is
that they may not touch dead animals other than those
properly slaughtered for food. It is the master and not
the slave who would remove a dead cat from the house, and
where is the Court slave who would willingly consent to
drag away the carcass of a horse? For such and other
infringements of their code there is punishment (normally
ostracism) by communal sentiment, the decision being
cried round the town with a conch - the slaves’ alarm: while
the offender’s readmission is celebrated by the slaughter of
a sheep in the blood of which he dips his foot.

Negro slaves in my experience are of a contented mind.
They have a cheerful demeanour often lacking in their
masters, so that they sing and dance apparently unmindful
of their political and social disabilities. It is difficult for a

[3i]

SKULL-MEASURING

European who has not lived in Muslim countries to form
any considered opinion regarding slavery in practice. The
lot of the slave must necessarily be compared with that
of the freeman in the same environment. Judged by this
standard, the life of the slave is not wholly pitiable. The
general standard of life is so low -just above the line of
bare sufficiency - that the slave-owner, in his own interests,
has to feed and clothe the slave nearly as well as himself.

The fundamental difference between them lies in work.
In the land of sloth, it is the slave who does the manual
labour. He has to produce enough to support both of
them, and the freeman sees that he does so. But to suppose
that a difference of rewards exists as sharply defined as in
the Southern States of the U.S.A. or the West Indian
Colonies before the abolition of slavery would be a false
assumption. No such difference exists.

Slaves actually enjoy certain fortuitous social advantages.
The male, for instance, escapes the perils of the blood-feuds
that haunt the ‘free’ tribesman, and when he is caught in a
raid and Arab kills Arab, his life will be spared. It is true
he will find himself taken captive and sold to a fresh master,
but his lot need not therefore be worsened. As regards
females, the slave girl enjoys a social liberty that is in
gratifying contrast to the ‘free’ Arab woman. The latter is
probably married at fifteen to a spouse chosen by her father,
without being consulted or even seeing him. Thereafter
she is destined to close confinement in her house for the
rest of her life except for rare excursions out of doors,
where she goes closely veiled. The rigidity of the conven-
tion increases as her position rises in the social scale, while
any sexual lapse - this in contrast to her husband’s
admitted licence - she will pay for with her life.

[ 32 ]

MOURNING CEREMONIES

The slave girl, on the other hand, is fancy free, and
although her marriage will be likewise arranged by her
master with an eye only to his own profit, she will walk
abroad unveiled throughout her life, and flirt and fraternise
where she will.

A group of desert Badawin were interested spectators of
the devil-dancing in the afternoon, and though professing
Muslims all, none seemed to have any misgivings of con-
science about it, in refreshing contrast to the narrow spirit
of the semi-sophisticated Omani official. If the pastoral
races of the desert have placed their gods in the skies
because they were habitually looking upwards for rain, the
giver of life, why should not the agricultural races, with
their eyes always on the soil, have their earth-spirits ? But
with such ideas neither party would have had any sympathy.

It was before Hafa village, picturesque in its setting of
coco-nut palms, that the zenug rites were customarily per-
formed three days after a death. The sound of well-played
drums drew me to the throng. In the midst was a clearing
spacious as a riding-school. At one end sat the drummers, a
fire before them for the purpose of tuning their drums.
Round about them danced the ‘drum boys,’ a dozen or
so stalwart negroes of splendid muscular development.
They were naked but for their loin-cloths; about their
knees was a rattle of dried mangoes. This khish khish
swished to the beating of the drums, as the dancers stamped
and gyrated.

Across the circle opposite stood the naqib . His hands
were to his lips as he chanted his incantations - ‘T’ Allah ya
malengi , y' Allah ya malengi - while a chorus of a dozen
companions, standing facing him in a row, took up the
responses.

c [ 33 ]

SKULL-MEASURING

Around the inner edge of the circle Awwadh the ab ,
master of ceremonies, ran hither and thither, slashing with
a whip in his hand before the naked feet of spectators,
wherever they pressed too closely.

A dozen paces within the ring was the path of the main
performers - a stream of young negroes and negresses, who
came sweeping round and round the circle in grand parade
- young slave girls, singly or in pairs, sturdy, black as ebony,
and high of bosom, selected doubtless for their superior
graces in the eyes of men. A black muslin veil shrouded
each girl’s head and drooped about the shoulders, of so
flimsy a material that it did not conceal, but rather accen-
tuated the effect of her flashing eyes, her thick scarlet-
painted lips, her nose-ring, ear-rings and necklaces of gold.
Her dress, new doubtless for the occasion, was a single
mantle of starched indigo that glistened in the sun. One end
of its long sweeping train she held up fastidiously between
finger and thumb, the arm outstretched level with her
shoulder, the other arm lay close to her side with the hand
poised a span or so from the hip and palm turned back at
almost right angles to the wrist. And thus she moves; her
head motionless, her face turning neither to right nor
left, her body moving by some subtle shuffle-step that
has the sinuous slide of a skater. Before her leaps an eager
youth, in his hand a drawn sword that quivers with a flick
of the wrist; now on this side, now on that, now turning
about to face her - spellbound he seems, like the moth to
the candle. Other male slaves, threes and fours in line,
rifles held above their heads, stalk round in the more
deliberate measure of the horse-dance and looking straight
to their front regardless of beauty.

The afternoon wears on. More and more candidates

[ 34 ]

THE EVIL SPIRIT IS EXORCISED

enter the drum-throbbing ring. The moment for the
climax of the rite approaches. The spirit molesting the
corpse must be drawn forth and take possession of a ‘drum
boy’ chosen for his powers, who now draws apart from his
companions. All eyes are turned upon him. The stamping
grows wilder; the spirit-possessed puts forth all the frenzy
of which his body is capable. His face is hideously con-
torted, his eyes wildly stare, he rolls himself on the ground
and rubs his head in the dust, he slobbers with his lips as
though in a fit. He is clearly overcome by exhaustion,
and I, sickened by the sight of the orgy, depart as rifles
are discharged into the air, to add to the general tumult.

The mu edhdhin s ‘Credo’ would put an end to the
ceremony if the spirit-possessed slave did not, before then,
swoon, symbolising the passing of the spirit that otherwise
would have given the corpse no rest. But he has fallen and
lies motionless; and now the aulad and banat gather up
his limp body and bear it home, thence they joyfully
disperse.

[ 35 ]

IV: IN THE Q A R A MOUNTAIN S-
’ A I N AR RIZAT

I had already been held up in Dhufar for three weeks
with never a sign of the long-awaited camel party from
the sands, no word of Sahail, no word of my lately
despatched emissaries; only desert news trickled in,
disturbing news of wars and rumours of wars.

The curiosity of the market-place concerning my plans 1
was doubtless aroused, and I felt there was no better way
to lull it than by an expedition into the Qara Mountains.
Here was fresh country, which only Theodore and Mabel
Bent had seen forty years before. The land ever surges
with tribal unrest, so that only once has the Sultan or his
representative, the Governor of Dhufar, seen fit to tour in
these mountains, and never at all their predecessors. It
was, moreover, the gateway to the great desert. I hoped
to make it more than a cloak for my larger plans, for I
was eager for the opportunity of living amongst these
people, whose heads I had measured; I was curious to
discover their customs, their superstitions, their traditions,
and for light upon their psychology and way of life. Here
would be clues for the anthropologist. Would their
languages and culture identify them with the Arabs of the
north, or with those of the south-west, or would they

1 Although my position was that of Wazir to His Highness the Sultan,
and I had introduced the copper currency of Muscat into the Province in
1926 (before that time there was only exchange by barter), I had no juris-
diction in Dhufar, nor indeed had the Muscat and Oman Council of State,
of which I was a member. The Sultan treated Dhufar as a Royal Domain.
His rule through the Wali was personal and untrammelled by any foreign
influence; the regime was tribal, which I think to be the best form of
government for tribal Arabia.

[30

HUNTING PROSPECTS

challenge any identification to be found within the borders
of Arabia ?

Another attraction these mountains had for me was the
hunting they would afford. I had fondly gone over my
new Winchester rifle and ammunition, my butterfly net,
collecting-boxes and surgical instruments, jars of formalin,
packets of arsenical soap, and cotton wool. Arabia, lying
on the borders of three of the great zoological provinces
into which the world is divided, presents problems of
particular interest, and as the museums of the world had
almost no specimens of the fauna of this particular central
south region, the joys of hunting w'ould be enhanced.

My gun I deliberately left behind, for if I shot birds to
prepare them as specimens would demand too much of my
time. My Muscat Arab secretary, ’Ali Muhammad, who
had travelled with me on my previous march through these
hills in 1929-30 and prepared the birds I shot, had fallen
ill in Muscat before we started and had remained behind.
As each specimen requires a record of name, locality,
altitude, sex and date, besides its preparation, the question
I had to solve was how best to divide my waking hours
between this and the claims of mapping and note-taking.
But experience solved the problem. The preliminary
rough skinning of a large mammal - so long as I made the
first long incision - could be left to some Badu showing an
aptitude, though the finishing touches could not be en-
trusted to him. The skull, too, could be plunged into hot
water and left to clean itself, the snake or other reptile
needed only to be gutted before immersion in a jar of
formalin; the butterfly and the insect asked for nothing
more than loving care; whereas the normal small bird,
with a skin as delicate as silk, would make excessive inroads

[ 37 ]

IN THE QARA MOUNTAINS

into my time, so I had to neglect the Department at South
Kensington of my distinguished friend, Mr. N. B. Kinnear,
whose personal interest and encouragement had made me
a collector for the Natural History Museum.

We made an afternoon start on 19th October 1930. My
companions consisted of two- Kathiris and ’Ali al Dhab’an
(three companions of my last year’s expedition) and five
government slaves. A rendezvous had been arranged with
my Qara hosts at a point in the foothills.

Our way lay eastward along the beach past Hafa, through
the coco-nut grove that separates it from the ancient
ruined city of Balid. Thence we entered the plain behind,
strewn with other ancient surface ruins 1 now called hasaila ,
yet a civilisation far in advance of that now existing is
evidenced by such ruins and monuments as do exist, while
old steyned wells, dry water-ducts and plough-ridges
attest the former industry. The many shallow quarries in
the stony plain point to a bygone time when stone was
extensively used as building material. Now cultivators
may sow a little in them because of favourable sub-surface
moisture, and in remoter places they are refuges when
leprosy and smallpox periodically ravage the plain. 2

After a night disturbed by mosquitoes spent in the plain
behind Rizat we set out towards Jabal Nashib, the lofty
brow of the Qara Mountains. We passed the Sultan’s

1 The most characteristic feature of these ruins is a plain primitive
column, with octagonal shaft, square corbelled capital and similar square base,
a monolith. It is usually only six feet high, and this and its corbelled cap
suggest that it supported arches. A raised plinth, rising in steps to a man’s
height, supports two columns, or more according to size, and round about
lies debris of squared stones, black with age.

2 The infection said to be brought by dhow from the Persian Gulf

[ 38 ]

ANCIENT GRAVES

experimental garden at Mahmulah and entered the foot-
hills beyond. There we halted in a copse, by a babbling
brook, in which a herd of cattle slowly waded in single
file or stood lazily blinking in the shade of the thick
bushes.

This stream of Rizat rises two miles above the tree-
garlanded Milwah al ’Aud, and thence is carried in an old
aqueduct, green with moss and maidenhair, to skirt by
gentle contours of bare red banks until it is diverted across
the plain in two man-made courses, one to the shrine of
Hamran, the other through Mahmulah to Rizat, whereby
it alternates its bounty.

In the morning I took a butterfly net and went down
from my camp to the far side of the dry, rocky torrent
bed, to investigate some old stones. These proved to be
monster graves - giant ovoids of large flat slabs of rock, the
monument a dozen paces long such as I had seen at Khor
Ruri and Khor Suli. The Arabs regard them as evidence
of man’s former giant proportions!

Down the valley came a mountain man, afoot. We
hailed him, he paused and after acknowledging our sum-
mons by raising his rifle above his head, came over to
where we stood.

He was a typical man of these mountains, short of stature,
dark of skin, with long gollywog curly hair, almost beard-
less, with features that distinguished him immediately from
the northern Arab, broad brow, very small ears, nose that
was not armenoid, small, round black eyes again not
armenoid, a pointed receding chin, shallow square jaws
under the ears; well-developed and clean legs, but poor
body and arms. His dress was a single indigo skirt reach-
ing only to his knees. His black body, purple in places

[ 39 ]

IN THE QARA MOUNTAINS

from the stain of indigo, was bare, as also were his legs and
feet, and he was bareheaded except for a narrow mahfij ’, a
slender thong of plaited leather coiled nine times round his
head, and worn like an Arab aqal.

‘■Het bi Khar T said a slave who knew the greeting in the
Shahari tongue.

The wild man spoke little, but eyed me wonderingly.

‘ Hurl Weled. an nas ’ (Free - a son of the free) meaning
I was not of slave stock.

‘That’s a kafir (infidel), is it not?’

‘ Hashak! he’s the Wazir of your Sultan.’

I laughingly asked the man, who said he was of the
Oara tribe, whether he would sell me the beans he carried
in his anit, 1 i.e. leather satchel, as he appeared to be on
his way to Rizat to sell them.

‘How much?’

‘A dollar.’

He sniffed, as do all these people, to mean yes, and I
took the beans that I did not want, and in so doing dis-
tracted attention from religious issues. For the rest of the
day he conducted me up the wadi bed to the source of the
brook, where I collected a bountiful harvest of dragon-
flies, butterflies and lizards.

From a cave at the base of a lofty amphitheatre of
forested hill-slopes gushed the stream into a wide pool
masked by a fringe of reeds, man-high. Under the shadow
of some giant overhanging trees I sat down on the edge
and watched the tiny fish darting about in shoals, while
one of my slaves paddled up and down vainly trying to

1 T. his is a feature of the mountain dress. A leather bag, with shoulder
straps, hangs close under the armpit. The variety used for carrying money
and clothes is called haban. The anit is used only for food, dates and water.

[ 4 °]

OFFERINGS TO SPIRITS

catch them with my butterfly net. My attention was sud-
denly drawn to millet and other odd fragments of food
lying on the bottom. ‘Nughush!’ they said. Here men
cast bread upon the running waters to propitiate the
subiro that brood over them. The word, like our familiar
equivalent, stands for the spirits of the departed, possessed
of powers of good and evil and able to treat man even as
they are treated. At night the natives throw morsels of
tobacco and food to them, shouting, ‘We are your sons,
your daughters; do not harm us; be awake so that we are
not harmed by evil men or malign spirits.’

This spring of Rizat figured in a famous case of magic in
Wali Sulaiman’s time. Bait Zaiyan, a section of the Sha-
hara, claimed the exclusive right to practise nughush here.
The Qara tribe disputed the exclusive right of the Zaiyan,
their vassals, and asked for an equal share in the sacrifice
and in the ghostly grace accruing. The Wali, with an eye
to his government’s own share in the plains, decided that
both parties had equal rights, but that government itself
would provide the litigants with exact quantities of the
sacrifice to ensure against cheating, and thus become a
partner. But the time came when Sulaiman was fighting
these mountain people, and Bait Zaiyan saw their oppor-
tunity; they called upon the spirits of their forefathers, who
presently made the stream run uphill. Hence the plains
dried up and government lost its share; or so runs the
legend.

Many other pagan and animistic cults survive and are
practised throughout these mountains. All the natives
hold them strongly; whereas elsewhere in Muslim Arabia
they would be dubbed ungodly at the least. Another local
custom is the blood sacrifice carried out in the Jurbaib

[4i ]

IN THE QARA MOUNTAINS

just before the harvest, when a cow is led round the crops
and slaughtered, the blood drained into the irrigation
ducts and scraps of flesh cast amongst the standing corn.

The wooded hills bright with the tropical sun towered
above our pool where we sat in the balmy air and listened
to the birds’ loud singing in the valley. A herd of cows
grazed contentedly on the opposite bank. There, too, was
a black and almost naked woman surrounded by her
friends, and combing her shaggy locks, her reflection
dancing in the water, while another woman lay in her
midday sleep under a neighbouring tree.

When asked for milk, an African slave girl tripped across
to us with a large bowlful, and received a lewd greeting
from my mountain guide. She told us that the other
women were her mistresses, the wives of a local Saiyid,
who owned the cattle and would himself shortly arrive.
From her we also learned that my supposed Qarowi was
not of the Qara, as he said, but a Shahari.

Such lying is typical of these mountain folk whom the
plainsmen accuse, with reason, of inability to tell the
truth. ‘If there is a thing they do better than lying, it is
stealing,’ said the Wali to me. They are expert, incorrigible
thieves, brother steals from brother, father from son, and
a boy that shows no aptitude is suspect - his manliness is
despaired of. For the intended victim to report to govern-
ment a thief caught in the act would be treachery. If the
victim catches the robber then they compact a double
requital. Judicial disputes may be brought to government,
but never a petty theft; this in contrast with the Badawin,
to whom petty larceny is abominable. Yet an open raid
upon camels is no reproach, not being sneaking theft, but
act of war, by men prepared to deal death and to suffer it.

[ 42 ]

fed L

A COURAGEOUS COLLECTOR

This Shahari, however, was to give proof that he too
had his qualities. He showed rare courage when he
attacked and killed a five-foot four-inch cobra with his
two-foot stick. Nor was it a matter of kill where you
please. A snake, or any other animal for that matter, must
have the head intact to be of use as a scientific specimen,
so my rewards were scaled, but a snake with a head intact
is usually a live snake, and this Shahari did in fact carry
this deadly reptile alive, though with broken back, for
many miles on his small stick held out before him. It was
dead when laid out on the grass, but for an occasional flick
of the tail, with the tip of which the man now anointed his
eyelids. He announced that it was medicine for the eyes,
but I wondered whether some magical significance origin-
ally attached to the end from which life appeared to be
ebbing.

And now a large man of the nondescript coastal type, very
different from the mountain man, arrived announcing that
he was Saiyid Hasan, who owned the women and cows
across the stream. Had I enough milk ? Let him send for
more; and so we fell into a friendly talk about his world,
the price of dates in Dhufar and this year’s harvest at
Basrah and in Oman, which would determine future prices.
Now he would tell me of the mountains. Thefts were rife
and good men, as well as evil, must lie awake of nights.
His rifle was ready loaded. Why was government so weak ?
Why did not the Sultan cut off an offending hand as
aforetime ? This system of taking a thief to Muscat
and bringing him back whole after a year did no good
at all.

But surely, I thought, no tribesman would steal from a
Saiyid, else Dhufar is marching with the times. For the

[ 43 ]

IN THE QARA MOUNTAINS

Saiyids and Sharifs 1 of Dhufar are its accepted nobility,
ranking above the tribes themselves, being the venerated
descendants of the Prophet Muhammad. Whoso holds
their hands to his nostrils and takes a few hearty sniff's,
as does every local tribesman, will acquire virtue thereby.

The Saiyid had turned to the subject of ajarit , one of a
congeries of evil spirits, but I avowed that as we had none
in my country I knew not how to pacify them.

‘ Wallahi ! my wife has had seven bellies and she has
not delivered one of them,’ he said. ‘The ajarit have taken
them.’

There are many other evil spirits, jinns , jinniyat and
zars. Of these, zars are the most accommodating, jinns
sometimes yield, but ajarit\ they are Allah’s worst afflic-
tions.

’Ali al Dhab’an and I had arranged to sit up that night
in the hope of shooting a hyena, both hyenas and wolves
being common in these foothills . 2

We had heard on the previous evening the chatter of
hyenas from neighbouring hills; our camp-fire seemed to
make no difference to them in their caves. To-day while
I was away ’Ali had built a magbin shelter in the approved
manner, a low half-circle of piled stones capable of ac-

1 Saiyids are the descendants of Hasan, Sharifs of Husain. In reality,
of course, they are not the lineal descendants of the Prophet, but of ’Ali,
who married the Prophet’s daughter, Fatima. The Omanis, whose sect is
’Ibadhism (the ancient Khuwarij) and to whom ’Ali’s name is therefore
anathema, have the apposite saying, ‘Ask a mule what his father was.’ His
reply will be, ‘My mother was a horse.’

2 I should here mention that the panther is found in the more unfre-
quented wooded valleys; the Arabian Ibex tar lives beyond the habitable
mountains and in the Jabal Samhan; foxes are found everywhere, and gazelle
are numerous in the plains.

[ 44 ]

SITTING UP FOR HYENA

commodating us both and hiding us from an approaching
animal, as we lay. The loopholes for our rifles were dis-
guised, as was the whole wall, with small tree-branches.
For bait, on the first night, he put the entrails of a sheep
eight paces from the wall with a fire, lit just after sunset
to carry off the scent. On the second night he used a bait
of sardines, and again nothing happened. On the third
night I withdrew in favour of a Kathiri Badu. The hyena
came. Two rapid shots and a pained howl awoke me just
before midnight and I ran to the spot. ‘Fled and wounded,’
they shouted, pointing to a pool of blood. Confident that
the wound was mortal, they followed the trail as well as
a bright moon would allow, swearing they would find him
dead, but on the morrow I woke to hear that the animal
had got clean away, probably to die in some cave.

‘Had this been in the open desert,’ said my two Badawin,
‘we would have tracked him to his lair, but once he made
the rocky wadi, it was his sanctuary.’

[ 45 ]

»

V: IN THE Q A R A MOUNTAINS:
ANCIENT SURVIVALS AND THE
BLOOD SACRIFICE

‘Their inward thought is, that their houses shall continue for
ever ,and their dwelling places to all generations ; they call their
lands after their own names.’ — Ps. xlix. 1 1.

Y" ir^HE mountains of the Qara are still locally called after
the original masters of the land, the Shahara , 1 who
iv are by universal consent the most ancient tribe in
these parts, and by local tradition derive them from
Shaddad son of Ad. To-day they are weak, disunited,
disrated, none else giving to them in marriage, a dwindling

IBN BATTUTA’S VIEWS

race now numbering scarcely fbur hundred men who live
in groups among their Qara overlords, hewing their wood
and drawing their water; yet men say of the ruins of
Robat, that here was once Eriyot, their proud city. If
this be so, their decline has changed the face of the moun-
tains, for the Qara who are undisputed masters from
Dharbat ’Ali to Hadhbaram 1 build neither city nor mosque,
but live in the open under forest trees or in caves or houses
of hay. Their riches are in camels, and innumerable herds
of cattle and groves of frankincense. Yet in mastering the
Shahara they seem to have assimilated the Shahara culture,
for the language of these mountain folk, their dress and
manners are popularly held to have come from their dis-
possessed liegemen.

When this happened, no one knows. Ibn Battuta, the
famous Moorish traveller and theologian, writing in the
fourteenth century of our era, after twenty-five years of
travel through Egypt, Arabia and Mesopotamia, wrote
of Dhufar: ‘Another thing is that its people closely
resemble the people of north-west Africa in their cus-
toms . . . the outlying portion is not Arab, but of a Sudanic
type.’

About and beyond these Qara Mountains from long.
51 0 10' to long. 56° 20' range tribes physically different
from the typical Arab of the north, and using non-Arabic
mother tongues. 2 These are Qara, Shahara, Mahra, Bara-

1 Except for the A1 Kathir wedge in the central west between Gurzaz
and Thifa.

2 Of the four languages spoken, viz. Shahari, Mahri, Bautahari, Harsusi,

I have made vocabularies, each of five hundred words, and deduced a few
simple grammatical rules. They belong to the Semitic group, but have
closer structural affinities with Ethiopic than with Arabic.

[ 47 ]

IN THE QARA MOUNTAINS

hama, Bilhaf, Bait ash Shaikh, Bautahara, Harasis, Afar,
whom the people of Oman know collectively as Ahl al
Hadara, a name possibly identifiable with the Hadoram of
Genesis (by the elision of the final ‘m’ which is a Semitic
form of plural and the article in ancient Sabaean) and the
Adramitae of Pliny. Hadoram and Hazramaveth (generally
equated with Hadhramaut) come together in Genesis and
are called brothers, and Dhufar is contiguous to Hadhra-
maut.

The Qara Mountains, geographically in the centre of
this South Arabian ethnological enclave, seem to have
afforded a natural asylum for aborigines or early settlers
driven south and east before more virile peoples, or attacked
from the sea.

What a glorious place! Mountains three thousand feet
high basking above a tropical ocean, their seaward slopes
velvety with waving jungle, their roofs fragrant with
rolling yellow meadows, beyond which the mountains
slope northwards to a red sandstone steppe. Two incon-
gruous aspects, but true at any point throughout the strip
above the Jurbaib plain. Great was my delight when in
1928 I suddenly came upon it all from out of the arid

(i) Shahari is spoken by Qara, Shahara, Barahama, Bait ash Shaikh.

(ii) Mahri by Mahra and Bilhaf.

(iii) Bautahari by Bautahara.

(iv) Harsusi (Aforit) by Harasis and Afar.

Shahari is normally unintelligible to users of the other languages, who,
however, can understand one another with difficulty.

I was unaware that Mahri and Shahari had been written up by the
German philologist Dr. Maximilian Bittner, working on material collected
in the Hadhramaut and Socotra by Dr. Muller’s Arabian Expedition (1902)
and by Count Landberg’s Expedition (1898-99).

My Harsusi and Bautahari, which appear to be variants of Mahri, have
never before, I think, been recorded.

[ 48 ]

FOREST-CLAD MOUNTAINS

wastes of the southern borderlands. The red 1 aspect came
first. A white pebbly bed (Wadi Dhikur) led up into a
magnificent gorge of red cliffs, three hundred feet high
and more, their faces carved by nature into recesses that
threw dark fantastic shadows. The scene brought back old
Petra to my mind. Thence we crossed the watershed of
the Qutun, thick with thhgaut jungle, a libaniferous shrub
inferior to frankincense, and so on down through wooded
valleys to Dahaq, a mighty five-hundred-foot precipice,
whither the Bents had come and wondered whether
Ptolemy’s Abyssapolis was not to be found there. But ere
we reached it the hazy rim of the distant sea lifted beyond
the mountains rolling down to it. Thence we descended
to the brink of the Valley of Darbat, an exquisite picture
as we looked down through a tangle of tree-tops to the
stream, lined with trembling willows, a wall of tropical
jungle rising sheer above us on every side. We made our
way towards the plashing waters, the snapping of the
undergrowth as we went giving alarm to the herons that
lived amid these sylvan scenes.

Rizat’s wild life, resentful at our prolonged intrusion,
was forsaking its haunts, so I decided to leave on the
morrow, 5th November, and move up into the mountains.
Shaikh Hasan, to forward my wishes, had arrived with five

1 It is not, I think, impossible that the word Dhufar in origin was sus-
ceptible of the division Dhu Afar (the medial Arabic article al is not met
with in these South Arabian languages), meaning the Red Country.
Modifications of the word Afar are common, e.g.\

Afar — one of the largest frankincense groves.

Afar — a large wadi: is also the name of a tribe.

A four =2. large wadi.

y/«/br=clouds ; and the meaning, ‘a cloudy country,’ would be just as apt
as a ‘red’ country.

[ 49 ]

IN THE QARA MOUNTAINS

camels, large, fat-humped beasts which favourably im-
pressed me, but when it came to work I was to undergo my
usual disillusionment about mountain-bred camels. Un-
used to any load but sacks of frankincense or sardines, a
heavier, more compact load bearing on the wrong part of
their backs makes them restive. The habitual bellowing
and grumbling when loading was now followed by stamp-
ing and wild attempts to shed their burdens, so that after
two hours’ delay in getting on the move we were held
up from hour to hour rescuing or adjusting packs.

For two hours we skirted the foothills, moving west
towards the entrance of Wadi Thidot, one of the few great
intruding wadis that give access to the mountains . 1 The
wadi immediately became wooded as our way led along
and up a tortuous path thick with overhanging foliage
which brought us to a large pool fed by a tiny stream
called Sahalnaut (here, as is commonly the case in these
mountains, the water bears a different name from the
wadi). We turned out of the right bank to climb more
steeply on a general north-westerly bearing. The trees
grew thicker as we proceeded, compelling us to dismount,
and night fell before we reached our destined halt, so we
continued on foot through this dark dense mountain forest.
The march was unpleasant, doubly so now from the dread
of snakes with which these mountains teem. This was a
subject of banter between my companions, whose belief
in ‘the day’ and ‘the hour’ and a glorious hereafter, makes
intolerable positions tolerable for them. I found comfort
in the reflection that their jovial attitude and bare legs and
feet compared ill with my superior defence, but I was

1 The large wadis from east to west are Darbat, Ghazot, Ajarthun,
Raithot, Arbot, Nihaz, Gurzaz.

[ 5 ° ]

PERIL FROM SNAKES

constantly stumbling over boulders in the path and my
long Arab skirt swung awkwardly round my legs.

At last the trees gave place to a grassy upland valley lit
by the full moon, and here we halted for the night. The
lowing of herds followed by shouts of Rahalat! Rahalat ! 1
denoted that we had halted just short of the village of
Midsaib. Delicious bowls of milk were soon brought along,
but I was too tired to deal with a snake that a native had
caught and brought to me alive, so it was put in a bottle to
await the morning light.

The camp was early astir and I found myself in a glorious
grassy valley, with cliffs on either side, here and there
revealing natural rock caves fronted with stalactites and
stalagmites, suggestive of monster jaws. Trusses of straw
or thorn thatch edged the accessible ones which the people
in the cold winter and wet summer, when only they
require shelter, occupy with their beasts.

A crowd of villagers came along with more milk. This
is their staple diet, with honey and beef, the other two
luxury items their mountains afford. Another Hasan, an
old man suffering from senile decay and almost blind,
the father of the village, insisted on leaving his place in the
circle to come and sit next to me. I had dates served with
the coffee, and he caused mirth by dipping the one into
the other. He was clearly unused to these delicacies, if
indeed he regarded them as such.

Our Shaikh Hasan excited murmurs of admiration by
wearing the new indigo blue mantle that was my gift, and

1 A name given to a cow with drooping horns. Every cow enjoys a
separate name. They are hereditary names (like camel or horse families)
deriving through the mother. The herdsman claims to know every head
he has, so that if one is stolen, he can identify it a year or two later, even
in a strange herd.

C 5 1 ]

-A’ 'V /• C* t

^ O ii A,

IN THE QARA MOUNTAINS

I told the old man that I would like to send him the ‘sister
of Shaikh Hasan’s mantle’ as a present.

‘ Alatk baidhr he cried, a variant of 1 Allah baiyidh wijhak ’
(God whiten your face), a term of cordiality and gratitude.

* W'allahi! I like you. Sahib,’ he continued. ‘I am old
and about to die, but if you will say, “There is no God but
God, and Muhammad is the Prophet of God,” I will give
you two girls to wife, and all my property.’

A titter went round and Shaikh Hasan motioned to him
to talk less.

My medicine chest had acquired for me a spurious
fame and, as ever, afflicted humanity was brought to me.
This time it was a young boy, withered apparently by con-
sumption, who spat blood and was subject to fevers.

‘Have you any medicine for this, O Wazir?’ asked a
suppliant father. ‘Men say the infidels have drugs for
everything.’

My companions stared at the speaker and let him under-
stand that the term kafir was distasteful to me, though he
really meant no harm, for he used the term to mean merely
non-Muslim. ‘He is the Sultan’s Wazir,’ they said.

Loading up was an unpleasant job for the dew had been
heavy. Half an hour after starting brought us to a point
where we left the wadi by the pass of Sa’arin, to climb
five hundred feet into steep stony country. Then followed
rolling yellow meadows where hay stood to a man’s middle,
and occasional clumps of giant fig trees crowned the hills
or nestled in the hollows. Behind and below us in the
distance was the faint blue sea, and round us undulating
down country with the wooded cliffs above Nihaz occa-
sionally edging the western skyline. Here at 1500 feet
the bird life so plentiful in the valleys below dwindled to a

[ 52 1

A PLEASANT VALLEY

few sparrow-hawks and many large storks, but butterflies,
■ grasshoppers and locusts were many and various.

And now we looked down upon a pleasant vale that was
our immediate destination, A1 ’Ain, a Shahari settlement
of Had bi Dhomari, where a spring comes bubbling out
of the ground in the belly of a wooded trough. Two wild
fig trees, as big and shady as good English walnuts, and
bursting with apple-like fruit, made inviting bivouacs, and
there I halted. A three hours’ climb had made me thirsty,
but it is impossible to obtain milk during the noonday,
and the curds that were brought me arrived belatedly after
I had dealt with the milk of a brimming fresh coco-nut.

From over the brow of the hill appeared a party of Qara
tribesmen of Shaikh Hasan, in extended order, singing their
peculiar danadon chant 1 of the mountains. Their fellow-
tribesmen of ’Ain mustered to meet them, one drawing
his sword to dance in honourable welcome. The approach-
ing party halted in a crowd round their leader while he
improvised mock heroics for the occasion, and then lined
out again chanting new couplets, and so came facing up
to their welcomers whose turn it was to improvise a reply
in similar manner. Thus a ding-dong chanting went on
for some five minutes on either side.

Of quite a peculiar type are these dark -looking men of
the mountains, with their long rough head hair sometimes
caught up and tied in a bun on top, but more often left
wild and bushy, and practically no growth of hair on the
face except a slight chin-tuft, many of them with refined,
non-Arab faces. Their dress is the usual indigo mantle,
which among the well-to-do is cut to drape half the body,

1 A list of camel chants and mountain chants recorded as well as European
notation would permit is given in Appendix VI.

C 53 J

IN THE QARA MOUNTAINS

crossing it diagonally and being brought over one shoulder.
A leather girdle, looped as a cartridge belt, encircles the
waist. Their heads are uncovered, except for a leather
thong to keep their bushy curls in place; their black arms
and legs below the knees are bare. Most of them wear a
single ear-ring in the right ear and a single bracelet above the
right elbow like the Mahra and neighbouring cognate tribes.

The reception of these men of Shaikh Hasan’s called
for the slaying of a cow on my part, and ’Ali al Dhab’an
saw to it that the place of slaughter was within close range
of a tree - for to-night’s vigil. ’Ali and I were lying in
wait expectantly when at about io p.m. an animal came
prowling to where the entrails invitingly lay. It was im-
possible to see even at a dozen yards what the brute was,
and quite out of the question to try to use sights in such
darkness. All we could do was to wait for it to come close
and take a rough alinement, whence the advantage of our
both having rifles. As the sniffing creature came on, we
both aimed as we thought best. It could not have been
more than seven yards away when ’Ali touched my foot
with his, the pre-arranged signal. Two shots rang out and
the animal leapt into the air with a snort and fell lifeless
in a pool of blood. We both jumped up, ’Ali with his
dagger drawn in case of tricks, but the body showed no
response as he kicked it, and our further investigations
showed that both shots had told, one through the neck, the
other through the body. It was a splendid specimen of a
full-grown hyena, the first of five I was to get during the
next few weeks.

I had hoped for a wolf, and the trumpeting earlier in
the night of a donkey - alarmed for her foal - was a sign
of the wolf’s presence. Our bait was sufficient, for though

[ 54 ]

COSTLY MOURNING CEREMONIES

the wolf will attack young domestic animals, goats, lambs
and calves — it will also, like the hyena, prey on carrion.
The panther on the other hand scorns a cold carcass, and
will, like man, eat only what he kills himself. Here he is
held to be a menace to man and camel alike, at least to man
who has unsuccessfully attacked him in a tight corner,
wherefore the natives of these mountains treat a passing
panther at more than a hundred yards’ range with respect-
ful inactivity. They would only shoot if coming unex-
pectedly upon him at close range.

‘Panthers?’ queried Shaikh Hasan in answer to my im-
portunities, ‘they are rare, but a wolf you should get to-
night. Send ’Ali to my uncle’s. They are slaughtering six
cows to-day as the sacrifice to my aunt who died in the
middle of last moon. These men of mine are going along
for the feast. Surely to-night a wolf must come to the
place of slaughter.’

Here was a survival of great interest - the blood sacrifice
and the burnt offering. Throughout these mountains it is
the inviolable rule that one-half of a man’s cows shall be
slaughtered as a sacrifice, after his death. Half his wealth
must thus be dissipated for the state of his soul - Estate and
Legacy Duty with a vengeance, though for a very poor
man a single cow or sheep suffices. A limit of twenty cows
may be set only for the wealthy man, i.e. one possessing
upwards of forty head. With them may be slaughtered a
camel and some sheep, but the cow’s value in sacrifice seems
disproportionate to its actual worth.

On the day of burial, normally the day of death, one or
two cows will be slaughtered over the grave to the words:

‘Dai bi Huduktos Hadhail ir Hadhaild

(See by this gift M. son of N.)

[ 55 ]

IN THE QARA MOUNTAINS

Two nights are allowed to pass and on the third night
another cow is sacrificed. This is called khutum. A further
period elapses, varying according to the means of the
deceased’s relatives. It may be as little as a fortnight or
as much as three months before the big sacrifice takes place,
maybe of ten, fifteen or twenty cows, representing half of
the deceased man’s herds. This is called yom el nahaira .
Both khutum and nahaira are performed at the place where
the man lived and not upon his grave. More cows will be
sacrificed by relatives, and by friends of the deceased whose
bereavements he had honoured in like manner during his
lifetime. This vast slaughter attracts the whole neigh-
bourhood and the section of the tribe to which the dead
man belonged divide up the flesh for themselves, and go
away under their handsome burdens. Visitors from other
tribes have no such rights, but are invited to partake of
the feast, for which one cow will have been roasted.

Then takes place the division of the residue of the
estate between the relatives . 1

Among the southern borderland tribes, such as Bait
Kathir, and in the Qara Mountains customary, not Islamic
law, prevails. Among the Bait Kathir not more than one-
third of a man’s estate may go to his creditors. Of the
remaining two-thirds, one-fourth goes to the wife that has
borne children, one-eighth to the wife that has not borne
children and the remainder goes to the children in the

1 The religious law of Islam prescribes categorically how a man’s
estate must be divided. The right of bequest is strictly limited, and among
tribesmen is almost non-existent. The lawful wives and all children are
entitled to a due share of the estate; to a daughter one share, to a son two,
and to the wives one-eighth of the estate between them. Where there are
no sons, the paternal uncle, or in default of such, the paternal male cousins,,
receive the son’s share.

[ 56 ]

LOCAL LAWS OF INHERITANCE

usual proportion of a double share to each son. Where
custom differs from Shara’ law is that if there is no son and
less than three daughters, the deceased’s brother is entitled
to only a daughter’s share, and if there are three or more
daughters, they take the whole, and paternal male relations
get nothing.

The laws of inheritance of the Oara Mountains are
peculiar. They are bound up with the cult of death sacri-
fice. Their wealth, as already shown, is generally in cows,
and at a man’s decease half of his cattle are slaughtered as
a blood sacrifice. Creditors are allowed to claim up to
one-tenth of the estate, and what remains is divided be-
tween wives, sons and daughters. The wives take one-
tenth in a small estate and generally five cows when large
estates are involved. A peculiar feature of this group of
tribes is that if a woman has one daughter, or three daughters
and no son, no part of the estate passes to the nearest male
relative of the deceased husband’s family, who would
under Muslim Holy Law normally get the largest share.
If she has two daughters it does. There thus seems to be
some special significance in the numbers i and 3. Another
point in which the mountain system differs from the usage
of the South Arabian tribes, but accords with Shara’, is
that all wives get the same share irrespective of whether
they have borne children or not.

The wife in these tribes may not betray grief on the
death of her husband. Mothers, daughters and sisters may
weep and raise their voices, and amongst the Qara they let
down their hair, beat their heads, and pour dust upon
them; but a public show of pain for the man’s loss would
disgrace a wife. She must hide herself.

[ 57 ]

VI: THE QARA MOUNT A I N S -
HYENAS, FAITH CURES AND
CIRCUMCISION

amr al ’ ain ! Hamr aV ainV (Red of eye! Red of
eye!) Such were the shouts - the usual idiom in
praise of manly prowess - that greeted ’Ali as he
returned at dawm from the scene of the sacrifice, for with
him was a dead wolf straddled across a donkey.

I could not w ? ait to do more than turn and wave greeting,
for I had been called to Adaiqaf, the small village of the
Shahari headman Juma’an across the meadow from my
camp. In one of its miserable hovels a man lay dying. A
straw thatch of beehive shape was not more than a man’s
length in diameter or height and had only a hole as an
entrance to crawl through. The floor was strewn with
straw, and there -was of course no fire hearth. The only
furnishings were a plaited reed basin into which they milk,
and a few pots for water, butter or honey and the like -
both the products of women’s industry. Near by were
larger and slightly more ambitious buildings having walls
of stone, rough, undressed and uncemented. These were
for cattle in the temperate seasons, but against the summer
rain and winter cold both men and cattle take refuge in caves,
which are numerous where, in dips and hollows, the lime-
stone strata obtrude. The winds of the ages have scooped
out natural caverns, which only need thatching in front
to provide spacious and effective shelter for man and beast.

And so back across the meadow to ’Ali and his hyena.
The north wind blew chill at this height of 1 600 feet, and
the sunlit air, fragrant with the scent of hay, made it feel
good to be alive.

[ 58 ]

POISONOUS SNAKES

Three snakes had been brought in to me by Badawin,
the smallest a rather beautiful black and white barred
shalthum , which was found to be a new species of colubrid ;
the second was very much alive and in consequence did not
engage my immediate interest; the third was a dololat, a
hideous monster only nineteen inches long and as squat
as a bun with bold V-shaped markings along his back and
an enormous flat head - an African puff-adder. Every day
one such was brought in, which suggests it must be the
commonest snake in the mountains. It is a sluggish mover
and deadly poisonous, so those who walk through the
undergrowth here do well to move warily, though to
pursue a charaxes butterfly (those I got were the only
known specimens of this African type to have been found
in Arabia), head in air, is to forget perils underfoot.

In disembowelling this adder - its body contained seven-
teen tapeworms which deceived me for a time - I suddenly
felt a sharp sting on my finger and had an uncomfortable
hour or so afterwards lest, despite my precaution in using
tongs, some inward part of the snake were poisonous and
I had not been sufficiently careful. No ill effects followed,
however, and I decided that a spot of formalin had touched
a part of my hand where there must already have been a
slight abrasion.

The mountaineers will not eat hyena or fox; and eggs,
chicken and all manner of birds are also under a strict
taboo 1 like frogs and snails in England. What is or is not
permissible to eat throughout the southern borderland of
Arabia varies from place to place. Except for the sedentary
townsfolk and this central group of tribes with non-Arabic

1 I am informed that chicken, eggs and fish are not eaten by tribesmen
in the Medina area.

[ 59 ]

IN THE QARA MOUNTAINS

languages, the hyena is eaten everywhere from Hadhra-
maut to Oman; the fox on the other hand is favoured
only by the Badawin of Oman and a chance nomad like
’Ali, the mighty hunter; the wolf is eaten by no one. Not
only the nature of the meat, but the manner of its killing
become a subject of lively debate among the faithful.
Like the Hebraic Code, the Islamic Law permits only such
animals to be eaten as have been slaughtered by a knife
drawn across the throat. It is idle to suggest to the Badu
that in days when firearms were unknown, the intention
was merely to forbid the eating of animals that had died,
perhaps from disease . 1 The illiterate Arab prefers down-
right guidance and shuns such speculations as kufr -
heresy. Thus he may not eat of a bird with a hooked
beak. The suggestion that a hooked beak implies a carrion
eater has for him nothing to do with the religious pro-
hibition. ‘Thou shalt not’ is the law; its origin, or the
underlying reason, is not his concern, nor yours. Thus an
Omani townsman askari who delighted in fox flesh stood
aghast when I asked him whether hawk was lawful food.

‘Never!’ said he. ‘It has a hooked beak. We will not eat
even a partridge,’ and he narrowly eyed ’Ali who spent his
morning cutting up the hyena into long shreds of meat and
hanging them on a tree to dry.

‘What’s that for, ’Ali?’ he asked.

‘I’m taking it as medicine for a sick friend in Salala,’ he
said (a belief in its curative properties for human affliction,
for the back - eat of the back, for the right leg - eat of the
right leg, and so on, is widespread). Of course every one

1 The origin may well have been to drain away the blood, perhaps to
feed the god at the altar; cf. Genesis ix. 4, ‘Flesh with the life thereof which
is the blood thereof shall ye not eat.’

[60]

FOOD CUSTOMS

knew - even the slave cook who took a malicious joy in
circulating the story - that ’Ali, the Hadhramauti, was
saving it up for his family.

But the hyena taboo amongst these mountaineers is no
ordinary one. Not only will they not eat its flesh, they will
not kill it or assist in its destruction. They believe that it
is a magic animal; it is the riding-camel of the witch, and
those who attack it will incur its mistress’s avenging hand.
Cows will die or other retribution follow. Thus the Qara
were much exercised to find a hyena’s head boiling (my
way of cleaning the skull) in the pot that was usually used
for cooking their rice; Shaikh Hasan, under whose protec-
tion I was, counselled caution, possibly, I thought, as a
sop to his own conscience, for he was an ardent believer
and had vowed to me that he had once come upon a dead
hyena actually wearing ear-rings. Doubtless some bel-
dame, its mistress and a caster of spells, had pierced its
ears and put them in. The same story was vouched for by
the Kathir Shaikh of Dhufar, who called God to witness
that he spoke the truth.

‘What is there more succulent than hyena flesh ?’ said
’Ali to me. ‘These men are not like us Arabs, for we of
the Karab and Sa’ar call it kabsh an nabi - the Prophet’s
ram. The Prophet himself made it lawful for us to eat,’
and he proceeded to tell me how it came about.

Once upon a time a hyena claimed the young of a
gazelle as its own offspring. Hyena and gazelle appeared
before the Prophet, where each pleaded, ‘The young
gazelle is mine.’ The Prophet sent them away and told
them to appear before him again the next morning.

And lo! before dawn broke the gazelle came prancing
up to the Prophet’s tent.

[ 6 1 ]

IN THE QARA MOUNTAINS

‘How have you spent the night, O gazelle ?’ asked the
Prophet.

‘I spent the night watch by watch standing like Cassio-
paeia always in my place.’

Well after sunrise the hyena came leisurely ambling along.

‘And how ha ve you spent the night, O hyena?’ asked the
Prophet.

‘I spent the night, O Prophet, asleep in the protection of
Allah until the rising of his great star, the sun.’

The Prophet (upon him and you be peace), turned to
the gazelle. ‘Take the kid,’ he said, ‘it is thine.’

Up leapt the hyena shouting, ‘God curse the Prophet
and his father!’

Whereupon the Prophet seized the pestle from where it
stood in the coffee mortar and struck the hyena as it turned
to run away, so that its hindquarters withered to their
present miserable proportions, and the hyena became food
for man.

Verily the kabsh an nabi\

The ape is found in the Hadhramaut, but not in these
Qara Mountains. There is a folk story that apes spring
from a human being who stole Muhammad’s sandals, for
which offence the Prophet forbade him to enter the mosque,
whereupon he went out into the fields like Nebuchadnezzar
and ate grass, and became a rubah ape.

My hunting at ’Ain prospered, but I had the greatest
difficulty and sometimes failed in persuading my collectors
to slaughter in a manner that would not spoil the skin as a
scientific specimen. The main difficulty was the religious
requirement of a lateral gash across the throat, but ’Ali
and I devised a compromise whereby he should first make
a longitudinal slit of the skin down the throat (as required

[ 62 ]

OUR FIRST HYENA: THE SKIN FOR THE MUSEUM: THE FLESH FOR ’A LI AL

DHAB’AN {on right)

THE OFFENCE OF THE APE

for my purposes), fold it back and then perform his ortho-
doxies under the skin.

I had been adamant in refusing any reward for a spoilt
skin, and in the light of our new-found formula, ’Ali now
declared how much he lamented a fox he had killed in the
old way, and was unlawful for eating. I admired such piety
in the acknowledged slayer of fifteen sons of men!

Yet the Omani soldier looked at ’Ali disdainfully as much
as to say, ‘That slaughtering is not orthodox - I would not
touch it!’

But to them both, such is custom, a beast could be shot
dead, and all would be well so long as there was a prompt
lateral cutting of the throat made with the pious expression
as the blood gushed forth, * Bhmillah ar rahman ar rahim /’
(In the name of God the merciful, the compassionate).
But without the lateral gash God would not be pleased.

The scent of cooking food, or was it the hungry sense of
an approaching meal hour, brought natives from all direc-
tions about us. And now one of these, an old Mahri who
had not come empty-handed, stood by watching me
despatch his chameleon.

‘ Wallahl By God!’ he burst out, ‘it is treachery. I found
it innocent in a bush and it came along with me trusting,
and this is what I consent to happen to it!’

A dear old man! I thought, you shall have a dollar. He
took his place in the circle of interested onlookers who sat
around.

‘Have you any medicine for a barren woman ?’ he said.

‘A strong man,’ interjected a youth, and a titter went
round.

‘There may be medicine,’ I said, ‘but I have none with
me. Is she young? Twenty?’

[ 63 ]

IN THE QARA MOUNTAINS

‘Older,’ he rejoined. ‘She has had four husbands and
I’m the fifth, and she has never borne a child yet.’

‘Then there is no medicine probably,’ I said.

‘She is as a bint (virgin) still!’ he returned.

‘All the better!’ said the youth unhelpfully, amid more
tittering.

As the party broke up the old man remained behind,
and I saw that he was not despairing.

‘I want a writing 1 from you!’ he said.

‘What for?’

‘A woman who is not yielding to her husband.’

‘I don’t hold with writings for that,’ I said, by way of
escaping an impossible request.

‘But do you understand what I mean?’ he returned.

‘Yes, perfectly,’ and I repeated his story.

‘But she is my wife. I would like a letter from the
Sultan ordering her to surrender herself.’

‘That, I fear, is impossible. Take your case to the Wali.’

He clicked his tongue, which is the mountain negative,
then put it into words:

'Lob! Lob!’ he said. ‘It would be shameful for me;
promise you will not tell.’

‘I promise,’ said I, and the old man trudged back, I
suppose, to his two unsatisfactory women.

The Qara Shaikh was slaughtering a cow the next day
in my honour - let the unwary Arabian traveller be warned
that this is the most expensive way of buying one - and a

1 A script worn as a charm is invested with magic virtues. The credulous
have no particular concern whether or not it be from Holy Writ, although
it is often a verse from the Qur’an, as the scribe knows no other. Venerated
Saiyids do very good business, particularly just before the exodus to the
mountains, by vending such. A dollar script will protect against the Evil
Eye; two dollars for an ailing cow; and more as the price of general immunity.

A CURE FOR VARICOSE VEINS

Shahari vassal of his brought it along. I looked at the
Shahari and wondered whether or not it was his ‘ewe
lamb’: it probably was. The neighbourhood came to the
feast, which was followed by the usual haydanadon chant-
ing, though I gathered that heroic verses are often ren-
dered in the Mahri tongue, as opposed to the love ditties of
the mountains which are chanted in Shahari. ’Abdullah,
the poet, did the improvising - a friendly garrulous in-
dividual from whom I was soon to hear a tale of woes.

‘Have you medicine for this ?’ he asked, calling attention
to one of his legs, abnormally swollen. It was little good
my protesting that I was no doctor, for there was a pitiful
predisposition among the sufferers to believe in my powers.

‘How long has it been like that ?’

‘Three years,’ said ’Abdullah. ‘It does not trouble me
when I rest, but when I run it swells and gives pain. And
the blood of the sheep has not availed.’

For human sickness these tribes sacrifice a cow or a sheep,
and sprinkle its blood over the patient’s shoulders and
breasts when the sun is high. The animal must be female,
a sex distinction not observed at the death sacrifice.

‘What is that mark ?’ and I pointed to a scar over a bunch
of the varicose veins from which he clearly suffered.

‘The cautery!’ he said (the hot iron is a universal
medicine throughout these parts), ‘but it did no good.
Have you no medicine, Sahib? W’allahi! I have no son,
but if I were offered cure of my leg or a son, W'allahi! I
would choose a whole leg.’

His friends looked at him incredulously.

‘I know naught for it but a surgeon’s knife, and that
means a visit to Aden or Muscat,’ I said.

To ’Abdullah, a wild man of the mountains, Aden and

E [ 6 5]

THE QARA MOUNTAINS

Muscat were remote as Mars, and a journey thither,
entailing an unprecedented absence from his females,
about as feasible.

l Tawakkul al Allah!’ he said resignedly. ‘Rely on
God,’ from whom, such was the implication, affliction and
cure alike come.

’Abdullah’s geniality was exceptional. The mass of these
tribesmen are a dour breed, sly, suspicious, unamiable.
They do not invite personal contacts, but the exceptional
spirit among them can be cultivated. None thinks it
necessary on arrival to bid one the respectful salutation
universal throughout Arabia, none says a word of farewell
on leaving the circle, but abruptly rises on an impulse,
slopes his rifle, and turns silently away. Among themselves
they are engaged in constant bickerings and brawlings, and
I went among them apprehensive of trouble which might
prejudice my own activities. Cow-thieving seemed to be
the main cause of the troubles, for adjustment came not
by restitution, but by revenge. Shaikh Hasan himself had,
he told me, suffered the loss of a hundred head, much of it
from the malice of enemies, for the animals were cut down
and left where they profited no one. Other men told me
that Hasan had despoiled his neighbours of far more, and
that much of the repute he now enjoyed derived from the
ethically questionable exploits of his youth.

To-day there was an alarm!

‘ Yawulaid ! Y a jar ha! Yawulaid! Ya jar ha!’ rang the
call throughout the country-side, and all looked at the
distant figure on the northern skyline who was raising the
taguwid - the war alarm! Were the Badawin of the steppe
coming, for the Sa’ar have, in times past, raided the Outun.

Labkhit, the Shaikh’s son, whom I was on the point of

[ 66 ]

TRIBESMEN AND NON-TRIBESMEN

sending to Dhufar to purchase stores and bring me news,
seized his rifle and ran off loading it, with the others,
leaving me standing with just a few Shahara who took no
action. The Shahara are a spineless people who will meekly
consent to be pillaged or allow one of their number to be
killed, without raising a finger in defence of themselves.

‘ Bahaim taht AllahV ‘No better than cattle under God,’
said Shaikh Hasan, speaking of them afterwards to me.
‘They are afraid to shed blood!’

This indeed is the crux of the matter, the dividing line
between prestige and discredit, between tribesman and non-
tribesman, between Qara, Mahra, Kathir on the one hand,
and Shahara, Barahama, Bait ash Shaikh on the other:
namely the power and will to fight; it springs from a cor-
porate consciousness on the part of the tribesman by which
the acts done by or to any member of his tribe are virtually
acts done by or to himself, with all the consequences that
that involves.

‘The Shahara! they are no better than slaves!’ says the
tribesman, for whom marriage with a slave would be un-
thinkable. It is dishonourable; let the nobility - the
Saiyids and the merchants of the coast - use their slave girls
as concubines at their pleasure!

The treatment of the Shahara by the Qara leaves the
traveller in no doubt which is which, though the typical
Shahari (who from the interdiction of marriage outside his
people, must be racially pure) is distinguishable by having
a much broader face than his neighbours or the northern
Arab. His weapons help also to distinguish him, for very
seldom will you meet him carrying a rifle.

Not only the dress, but the arms of these mountains are
unique throughout Arabia - a bare double-bladed sword, a

[ 67 3

THE QARA MOUNTAINS

buckler (of the circular kind found amongst Hamitic
tribes) and also and chiefly an aget - a heavy straight stick
of mitain 1 wood, pointed at both ends and thrown with
great skill. This is the regular weapon of the mountains.
The well-to-do, chiefly those of the Qara, will carry a
rifle, in which case he will not carry the double-bladed
sword, but a single-bladed one, and instead of the aget , an
ordinary stick.

‘And whence came these Shahara?’ I asked.

‘They are the people who killed the Prophet Salih’s
camel, and are suffering to-day for their wickedness, for
they are no longer tribesmen, that is, men of honour,’ was
the answer.

‘And had Salih bin Hut a camel?’ I queried, simulating
ignorance of their story.

My informant, pitying my ignorance in his branch of
learning, continued. ‘Not heard of Salih’s camel, the most
famous was she of all God’s creatures ever!’ His stick
traced the sun’s course in heaven as he went on. ‘She
journeyed from east to west, and from west to east, and she
yielded to all peoples honey, milk and wine. That was in
the time of Talmud and Ad, but an ignorant man of the
Shahara killed the camel and God sent on the Shahara a
pestilence of ants, which crawled up their legs and over
their bodies and devoured them, so that few have survived
to this day!’

The next time I heard this story, an old man told it to
me, embellished with a sequel. ‘Tempted by a woman this
same wicked Shahari pursued the dead camel’s calf, hoping
to slay that too. But God set a cave in the way, and Nabi

1 This wood is exceedingly heavy, and sinks in water. It grows only in
the mountains of Dhufar.

[ 68 ]

THE CAMEL OF SALIH BIN HUT

Salih’s camel calf 1 entered into it and the entrance was
closed up like a wall of mountain and prevented the man
from coming after it any more.’ A pause. l Shuj! Sabhart
AllahV - ‘Do you call that nothing?’

‘And what of the origin of you Qara?’

‘The Arabs call us Qara but we call ourselves Hakalai,
and we came here from Hadhramaut, and to Hadhramaut
we came from across the sea.’

I had heard this many times, and Shaikh Hasan held that
the tribe migrated westwards with the Mahra, and that they
had lingered together over Habarut. This seems improb-
able to me because they, like the Shahara and Barahama,
have no camel wasm , and for a tribe that was at one time
nomadic and still breeds camels not to have had, or tohavelost,
the camel mark which is the tribal coat of arms, is inconceiv-
able. Its absence suggests that they came in by way of the sea.

‘Hakalai was our ancestor, and the Qara sprang from the
Guraish. He and the Baliyoz 2 sprang from one race: but
we crossed the sea.’

A Saiyid pointed out that this was not the Guraish from
which his revered ancestor the Prophet sprang, but from
another, only remembered in Qara traditions.

It was interesting to me as implying a consciousness of
racial distinction from the typical Arab; it also suggested
that the Qara are not improbably a survival - an eddy of
that Abyssinian stream of Christian conquerors that in-
vaded and proselytised South-west Arabia before Islam.

1 I should perhaps use the word ‘colt,’ following Genesis xxxii. 15,
‘Thirty milch camels with their colts.’

2 This term is used in the Persian Gulf and on the coast of Arabia to
denote a British Political Agent. It is said to be derived, by metathesis,
from the low Latin bailus. Lat. bajulus , from Bailo, the title of the represen-
tative of the Venetian Republic at the Sublime Porte.

THE QARA MOUNTAINS

But of this my informants had no knowledge; for them
the world is divided into believers and unbelievers, though
of the text of the Qur’an they know nothing. Scarcely a man
in these mountains can read and write except a few itinerant
Saiyids. Writing indeed has a magical significance as the
Mahri episode, and many like it showed, and whenever
applicants for my medicines were about, they were eager
that I should look into my book (it was a star-chart) to see
the cause of their affliction.

‘I have heard men say that the Qara sprang from Him-
yar,’ I continued.

‘Do you mean Hamyar or Himyar?’ said the learned
Saiyid, ‘for there are two.’

‘ Allahu ’ Alim ,’ returned the Qarawi. ‘I am not the
son of yesterday - 1 was not living then, how should I
know.’.

It had seemed to me that ‘Mahra’ and ‘Himyar’ are not
improbably anagrammatic forms of the same word, though
here again the word Mahra is used only by the Arabs, but
they are called in the language of the mountains Inharo
(with a nasal n ). As between Mahra and Qara there are
both physical and linguistic differences, and neither will
agree that they had a common origin.

It was their turn. ‘And you Inglaiz!’ they said.

‘Not less honourable than you,’ I claimed.

‘Then you are qubailiV

This was a poser, for it is difficult within the limits of
strict veracity to make plausible an English tribal system
in which people do not carry rifles, nor defend their honour
with their own right hand; where women are unveiled and
men’s equals. But I dare not lose caste in the eyes of my
companions.

[ 7 °]

SONS OF ADAM

‘We Nasara (it does equally well for English) ‘are a
very powerful tribe,’ I told them.

‘And who do you say is your forbear?’

‘Adam!’ I said, somewhat evasively, ‘so that we were all
very closely related at first and only fell away afterwards.’

‘That’s a fact,’ they said, looking at one another as much
as to say - ‘he speaks a divine truth. ’

‘And do you practise cleanliness? ( i.e . circumcision).’

‘It is not compulsory,’ I hedged.

‘Then there are men and women uncircumcised among
you ?’

‘Yes,’ I confessed.

‘God forgive you,’ he replied.

With these tribes circumcision is a rite of great import-
ance, and is so different from the practices of the rest of
Arabia as to suggest an independent origin. The male is
circumcised on reaching adolescence; the girl on the day of
her birth. This system of adult male and infant female cir-
cumcision is the reverse of that found elsewhere in Arabia , 1
notably in Oman where the practice is infant male circum-
cision (about six years old) and circumcision of the girl
when approaching the age of ten. In both regions, with
the male the whole of the foreskin is removed, but as
regards the female, while the Arabs of Oman merely incise
the top of the clitoris, these tribes of the central south per-
form clitoridectomy. This adult male circumcision con-
forms to the ancient Egyptian practice, for male mummies
dug up at Thebes show that this rite was even then ob-
served. Here in these mountains there are elaborate cere-

1 I am told that in the Upper Euphrates valley circumcision of males is
done at puberty, females never; and puberty is loosely interpreted to mean
twelve to eighteen.

[ 7 1 ]

THE QAR A MOUNTAINS

monies attending male circumcisions, and batches of youths
undergo what is a severe public test of their fortitude on the
same day. Large numbers of men and women assemble
round a large open space. On a rock in the centre sits the
boy of fifteen, a sword in hand. This sword, which has
been blunted for the occasion, he throws into the air to
catch it again in its descent, his palm clasping the naked
blade. Before him sits the circumciser , 1 an old man;
behind him stands an unveiled virgin, usually a cousin or a
sister, also sword in hand.

She raises and lowers her sword vertically, and at the
bottom of the stroke strikes it quiveringly with the palm of
her left hand. The stage is now set. The boy sits, his left
hand outstretched palm upwards, in suppliant manner,
waiting for the actual operation. This done, he has
promptly to rise bleeding and run round the assembly
raising and lowering his sword as if oblivious of pain, and
by his performance his manliness will be judged . 2 The rite
is attended by brave songs and drumming and the firing of
rifles, the women opening their upper garments as a gesture
of baring their breasts. But no such manifestations of joy,
indeed no manifestations at all, accompany the clitoridec-
tomy of the infant female, which is done in secret.

Hair customs seem to be connected with the sexual life.
A conspicuous feature is the central lock worn by boys,

1 Usually a shaikh or man of good family, whereas in Oman only a gypsy
or menial will officiate.

2 With the Mahra tribe male circumcision at one time was carried out
on the eve of a man’s marriage. To-day a decent interval is allowed. Men
and women foregather round desert fires. Eight or ten of the most present-
able females are paraded and the men declare who is the most beautiful of
them, while the remaining ladies protest characteristically, ‘No! No! No! No!’

[ 72 ]

HAIR CUSTOMS

connected perhaps with the ancient Egyptian Horus lock,
giving the effect of a metropolitan policeman’s helmet, or
recalling a certain Hindu caste. This is cut off only
at circumcision, after which time the hair is allowed to
grow normally.

Not less strange are the hair customs of the women. The
young girl’s head is shaven in alternate stripes rather after
the manner of a poodle, a brow fringe being left; the back of
the head is shaven like a tonsure, except for three or four
narrow plaits. When she is betrothed, customarily at the
age of thirteen or fourteen, the hair is everywhere allowed
to grow freely. Within a month after marriage has
taken place, as a sign that she is maiden no longer, a
long strip of skin about three-eighths of an inch wide
is removed with a razor, like a parting through the
centre of the head, so that hair never grows there again 1
- a scalping operation extremely painful and sometimes
fatal.

Women paint their faces on ordinary occasions with a
curious pattern of striped black markings, on festive
occasions with red, black and green paint. The common
face paint pattern produces a rather elaborate clownish
effect. A continuous black stripe borders the brow hair,
cheeks, jaw and chin. Another black line circles the
nostrils and runs straight across the cheek on each side to
the ear-hole. Straight bars for the eyelashes are at each
extremity carried slightly up towards the temple; there are
two short vertical lines under the eyes. Broad black stripes
encircle the throat. There may be a spot of vermilion in
the centre of the forehead, Hindu fashion, and the lips will

1 The presence of pubic and armpit hair in the female is not permissible.
She removes it by plucking, using a wax of frankincense.

[ 73 ]

THE QARA MOUNTAINS

be painted red. A married woman will have the scalp
parting - munserot - painted with a central black line. It is
a universal practice amongst the women of these tribes to
have one tattoo mark on their chins, a stroke between two
dots, thus *|* - a practice noted in Egypt by Lane.

Jewels are elaborate. The edge of her ears, pierced in
infancy at equal intervals in six or seven places, are adorned
all round with a large light ear-ring, or alternatively a little
silver chain. As puberty approaches she will have a nose
ring introduced, pointing forward from the left nostril. Her
many finger rings have no marital significance; she has
elaborate tawdry necklace bands, but wears no anklets, as
do the coastal women.

An old Mahra lady, unveiled like all her kin, her face
smeared indiscriminately with the greenish yellow subur dye
(of a local tree) came to see me. The same pigment coated her
arms from the elbows downwards, the legs from the knees
downwards, and the upper part of the breasts to the neck.
Her dress was the normal single loose black garment, low
in the neck and reaching to the ground, with a black muslin
head-wrap that fell about the shoulders, but her clothes
were green and fretted with age - which gave her a monkish
look.

She had brought me a present, and on opening the reed
basket in which she carried her knick-knacks she exposed
other feminine customs. Snuff was there; a most ladylike
habit, but not found with men. Men smoke but not
women, though both sexes chew - a mixture of tobacco and
lime is held between the gum and the cheek; it is said to
have a narcotic effect.

The present which the old Mahri now offered me to
gladden the heart of some hypothetical European lady was

[ 74 ]

MCISE

AN OLD LADY’S HAND-BAG

an article of toilet - a small piece of local pottery quite
beautifully shaped and recalling a Roman lamp - a nose
irrigator, in common use throughout these mountains. It
is filled with a kind of clarified butter, and the woman,
lying recumbent, applies the spout to her nostril and
empties a little of the contents into her head. ‘A cure for
headaches,’ said the donor, ‘which will make the eyes bright
and the complexion clear.’

A Badu youth who had brought me a badger, a precious
specimen because very hard to catch, kissed the old lady a
fivefold kiss - left cheek, right cheek, left cheek, right
temple and top of head - thereby showing a close relation-
ship.

‘This is Halairan bin Mir’ai, my nephew,’ she said.
‘Don’t you know him? He was in Muscat.’

‘Yes, b'tllah ,’ laughed the rogue, ‘you measured my head
in Jalali prison, but I told no one, for they would say,“Why
did you let him do it?” ’

I enquired the offence that had taken him there. He had
squeezed a girl’s hand, it seems, and the girl’s family
petitioned the Governor, and so he was deported for a year:
but it had done him no harm, he assured me, for he had
found rizk - God’s bounty - in Muscat, and held up the
rifle he had acquired there for me to see.

The salutations among these tribes are peculiar. Hand
touching, universal among Arabs, is reserved for meeting
the woman, and becomes only a smart tap of the fingers, the
lady withdrawing her hand sharply. For a man to squeeze
a girl’s hand, or clasp it as in a European handshake, is to
make an improper overture, for which the girl’s relations
may take blood. Men salute on meeting with a reciprocal
kiss on the left cheek, the right arm of each resting on the

[ 75 ]

THE QARA MOUNTAINS

other’s left shoulder, but they are so uncouth that if one
party is sitting he often does not bother to get up - un-
thinkable boorishness judged by any Arabian standard; for
a shaikh or old man the cheek kiss is sometimes followed
by kissing his brow; if shaikhs or persons of quality meet
they will kiss, then withdraw and stand facing one another
for a few seconds in dignified silence, before sitting.

I now rewarded the two Mahris who deserved well at my
hands, and they withdrew with the usual remarks of the
satisfied, ‘God whiten your face,’ and ‘God preserve you.’

Sounds of girls’ voices came floating up from the spring
in the valley where a party of Qarawiya had gone off with
their water-pitchers. Their song was said to be one of joy,
but the love-fraught lyrics needed a bilingual native to turn
them into Arabic for me, and none was present, so I must
be content to record in our musical notation the curious
wail of its melody. Where else in tribal Arabia would an
honourable woman dare sing in public, if indeed at all? In
puritanical Oman she would be beaten for a hussy, but here
in these mountains and valleys I often heard the distant
chanting of girls, and very pleasing it was to my ears.

[ 76 ]

VII: THE QARA MOUNTAINS-
EXORCISING THE EVIL EYE, AND
ORDEAL BY FIRE

A in. The second week of November. A big moon
sailed in and out of low-driving clouds, and I
remembered the last full moon that had shone on
my unobtrusive departure from Muscat harbour, but how
different the scenes I had then envisaged for this moon, and
their realities. Yet, though the sands seemed unattainable,
and therefore in prospect very sweet, there was solace in
these mountains.

Against the night the twisted branches of the fig tree that
was my roof made an exquisite picture; loud and continuous
were the hissings of crickets, and eerie the darting of large
black bats from tree to tree; a rush of air betrayed the
vulture that glided swiftly overhead; white and brown
storks gathered in their accustomed tree-tops for the night,
but took to flight at early dawn, for they seemed to resent
our intrusion, and no longer gladdened the sunlit fields of
’Ain with their grotesque but decorative presence.

The dawn was heralded by the curious glissando note of a
bee-eater calling to his mate. A joyous dawn ? No, for the
baby coney we had caught two nights before and had kept
alive with cow’s milk, was found rolled up in a cold stiff
ball. It needed us no more, and Sa‘id, a young askari whose
practice it was to come and fondle it, could not bring
himself to watch it skinned, but walked away with bowed
head - a display of sentiment unusual in these barbarous
places!

We were leaving to-day for another camp four miles to
the westward. My old camels that brought us here I had

[ 77 ]

THE QARA MOUNTAINS

dismissed at the instance of their owners, who considered
that they would be safer in their own district, and because
I found that I could raise local ones. The problem when
carrying precious specimens is to avoid having them dashed
to the earth and ruined by restive pack animals, conse-
quently the selection of new beasts demanded infinite
care.

Our route climbed westwards from the basin of ’Ain
through rolling stony meadows; it was nowhere so steep as
to make us dismount, yet here and there it crossed high
ground commanding magnificent views of the whole
mountain chain. To the northward spacious downs, gentle
and undulating, rose to the skyline. Behind us they swept
downwards till they merged into the forested ridges and
valleys that tumbled to the plain of Jurbaib. I halted to take
bearings on known points on the coast seventeen miles
below, while one of my party raced down the grassy slope
to a clump of trees that marked the spring of Isam, famous
for its wild-growing, bitter limes, soon to return with his
skirt full of them. Thence we reached the brink of a
wooded vale, one of the upper sources of the Wadi Arbot,
and moved down to camp in it at 1650 feet.

There I was soon to grow familiar with the cry of
herdsmen - whop — whop — whop r-r-r-r-r, and the swish of
moving cattle herds, for the pool of Khiyunt was only a
little way up the valley, and the hills about my camp
swarmed each morning, at intervals of half an hour or so,
with droves on their way to or from watering.

The cattle wealth of these mountains must be prodigious
by Arabian standards. Every man and woman possesses
some head of kine. A few individuals of the Qara and
Shahara may have upwards of a hundred, though the line

C7B]

CAMELS AND CATTLE

of prosperity starts at about twenty, and the owner of forty
is passing rich. Only the cow calf is reared - for her milk
and butter. One or two bulls will suffice a herd, so that
the bull calf is slaughtered and eaten. His stuffed skin is
placed before the mother at milking time that she may lick
it and yield more freely - a universal Arabian practice
recalling the camel bau of Oman.

The camel is bred in the wooded valleys below on a
fairly extensive scale, but by limited groups, for its rewards
to man are less and its care makes greater demands; even
the sexual act necessitates man’s assistance. 1

Milch camels normally never know a saddle, and
miserable mounts they make, as I know by costly experience.
Their breeding is only for the production of he-camels, the
stronger sex, to serve the transport needs of the province,
and carry frankincense from the mountains to the coast, and
to return with sardines to the mountains for cattle fodder.

Flocks are raised to a small extent on the Qutun, the
grassy roof of these mountains, and also in the plain of
Jurbaib, very largely also in the Zaulaul below Jabal
Samhan. The flocks are of goats, not sheep, for mountain
men think ill of mutton, and refuse to eat of it when they
find themselves at a feast in Dhufar. Yet to be served with
it is not a personal affront, as eggs or chicken would be.
There are no dogs in these mountains and few donkeys.
The latter are bred by Shahara and kept by them and A1
Kathir.

As for cultivation, the Qara may sow a few beans in the
western mountains or elsewhere, where there are no
meadows to yield grass; eastward in Jabal Samhan under the
same conditions they collect frankincense, or get the Mahra

1 See pa^e 214 n.

[ 79 ]

THE QARA MOUNTAINS

to harvest their groves for them. But the predominant
means of life is cattle raising; for these mountaineers are
essentially a race of non-nomadic herdsmen. Only males
may milk cattle. No woman dares to touch the udder of
cow, camel or sheep. It would be the greatest offence . 1

Illness, such as failure of milk in their animals, is readily
ascribed to the Evil Eye - 'Ain Balis - which in conse-
quence has terrors for them. Exorcism is by a frankincense
rite, performed usually at sunrise or sunset, of which I was
on more than one occasion an interested witness. The
practitioner, the cow owner, brought an incense burner
containing smouldering wood. He broke a fragment of
incense into three pieces, and spitting upon them three
times introduced them into the burner. The animal was
held by two other tribesmen, one seizing it by the lower
jaw, the other making it doubly secure by twisting its tail
and lifting its near hind-leg off the ground.

And now the first tribesman circled the burning incense
over the animal’s head, chanting a rhymed sacrificial chant
in the Shahari tongue:

‘Look at this your sacrifice: frankincense and fire: from
eye of the evil spirit: of mankind: from afar: of kindred:
near by: and from afar: be redeemed if from me: be
redeemed if from another: from the evil spirit: from
mankind: I am a man: bringing expiation: for the Evil
Eye: of man: of woman: look at this your sacrifice:
frankincense and fire.’

1 This is the contrary, as regards cows, of the rule observed by the Arabs
of Oman, where a man would lose caste by milking. The Mahra and A1
Kathir of these mountains allow their women to milk sheep, but not cows
or camels.

[ 8o ]

VETERINARY METHODS

His companions now released their hold and the animal
bounded off, swishing its tail merrily and doubtless no
worse for the experience , 1 to join its kindred that had
passed on up the valley.

‘But you Badawin have no such practices?’ I said,
turning to a Bait Kathiri of the steppes.

‘ Tawakkul al Allah ,’ uttered with upturned eyes, was the
pious response of this man - ‘but after cauterising a camel
for lameness we sometimes break a twig to throw after her
and say, “ Kesert cud: wa sher ma' aud ” - a twig (incense?)
is broken: evil return not.’

Next morning I went over to witness the practice of
najakh or vaginal blowing, which is universal amongst
these tribes, as a stimulant to milk production. The animal
stood, its hind legs firmly bound, while a boy coaxed it with
food to be still. The owner took a deep breath, and
holding the cow’s tail to the side, applied his lips to the
vagina and emptied his lungs: he drew back for a moment,
holding her with his other hand, so as to prevent the escape
of air, then took another deep breath and repeated the
performance, running his "hand along the udder at the same
time to see whether she was responding to his action. This
practice is said sometimes to be undertaken by the practi-
tioner with his mouth full of salt, but I have not seen this
done, though I have often witnessed najakh operations.

The Qara at Khiyunt seemed in a bad temper. At first
I fancied I might be the cause of their dispute, and
wondered if they meant to hold me to ransom - a thing
never yet done, to my knowledge, in Arabia. There was a
real risk of bloodshed, however, and of my being unluckily

1 After cattle are stalled at night, women will sometimes go among them
carrying burning incense.

F [ 8 I ]

THE QARA MOUNTAINS

involved. The disputants would settle by my tree, a ring
of gollywog mountaineers, half-kneeling, with one hand
resting on the muzzles of their upright rifles. They would
begin peaceably enough, though with no sign of laughter,
and with a running babble of voices, unlike the typical
Arab gathering, with its major intervals of silence. Suddenly
the tone would change, one man rising in his place and
gesticulating wildly, to be met by another who would get
up and harangue his adversary with an intensity that surely
presaged trouble. Everybody now seemed to start shouting
and nobody to listen. On this occasion a small boy tugged
at his father, one of the most excited disputants, to come
away. The others shouted gibes at the man as he went.
Suddenly he turned round and walked back towards
them.

‘ Zir-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-han alaikj he snarled, drawing his
forefinger across his teeth, a challenge to someone to come
and fight it out, presumably with sticks or rifles, and the
challenged one jumped up excitedly and fingered the bolt
of his rifle, but wiser counsels among those present prevailed,
and the parties were separated. *

As in most tribal societies in Arabia, hukm al hauz or
system of precedents and ancient sanctions is the law . 1

This varies regionally, but is generally based upon the
eye-for-eye principle, that the punishment may fit the
crime. A recent example was told me by the Governor of
Dhufar. A certain man was going on a journey and took

1 The Shara 1 or Islamic code is distasteful to them, and runs only in the
coastal townships where the government imposes it by force. It may be
resorted to, elsewhere, in matrimonial cause, but civil disputes and crimes
are the province of the hauz , who is the tribal- law-man, holding office not
infrequently bv inheritance. He may, or may not, be the tribal shaikh.

f>]

ATONEMENT FOR BLOOD

a rabia x from another tribe into whose country he was going.
On arriving there the sacred law of protection was trans-
gressed and the traveller found himself wounded with a
bullet through the fleshy part of his thigh. A hauz heard
the case and decided that he who had furnished the rabia ,
an innocent party but a member of the offending tribe,
must submit to the infliction of a wound similar to that
which the traveller had sustained. For this purpose a piece
of stick was brought and sharpened skewer-fashion. This
was thrust into the defendant’s leg and a bullet was threaded
and drawn in its path. By local canons the plaintiff’s
grievance was removed.

In Oman abuse of the rabia would be followed by war
between the two tribes unless the offended party agreed to
the ruling of the hauz, when he would receive from the
offenders, laum-al-iuijh (blame of the face), which is usually
assessed at four hundred dollars. Murder, which in Arab
tribal societies is almost invariably settled by blood-money
varying between four hundred and a thousand dollars (or
the equivalent in kind) in these Qara mountains is assessed
prodigiously high, in theory something like five thousand
dollars, which may take a lifetime to pay off, but settlement
is usually complicated by a vendetta. The murdered man
may be poor, so that his close relatives will in any case be
impoverished, but collections are made from all members
of the tribe who, as a point of honour or from immemorial
custom, must bear the burden. A Shahari or a slave mav
be murdered almost with impunity, for he is not a tribes-
man, that is, an equal, and has no clan to avenge him.

The tribes of the central south have a poor reputation as

1 A rabia is a representative of a tribe whose presence ensures protection
from that particular tribe.

[83]

THE QARA MOUNTAINS

regards the radud-as-salam 1 - response to salutations. In
other parts of Arabia it is commonly accepted that when two
men meet, between whose tribes there is ‘blood,’ and one
says to the other, ‘Peace be upon you’ and the other replies,
‘And upon you be peace,’ they have put aside their enmity
for the nonce. For one now to take advantage of the other
and slay him in his sleep, for instance, would be the deepest
treachery, and would be punished by expulsion from the
tribe with name besmirched. Not so amongst this lawless
brood of the central south, who also neglect to observe the
thamn-al-batn or ‘stomach price.’ This seems to be an
extension of the law of three days’ hospitality. If a South
Arabian Badu has ‘eaten the salt’ of a man, that man and
his goods are safe for a period of four days and four nights,
the time for the last vestige of food to have passed from the
Badu’s body. Should the latter’s tribe unwittingly raid the
man during these four days they must and w'ill return the
loot. This thamn-al-batn is sacred with the other tribes
of the southern fringe, but not with the mountain
group.

Another peculiarity of these tribes is their addiction to
oaths upon shrines (many of pre-Islamic origin) and the
ordeal by fire. In cases of offences against their code, the
oath or the ordeal will be adjudged necessary by the
hauz.

Swearing on the Qur’an or in the name of God, as practised
throughout Arabia, is nothing to them. They will do it and
lie cheerfully. Sometimes, indeed, the accuser will not
accept such an oath, but insist on the accused swearing by
a sacred shrine. Powers of vengeance in varying degree

1 Only within comparatively recent times would the Bautahara recognise
a rab'ia at all.

[ 84 ]

THE OATH ON THE QUR’AN

are attributed to these shrines . 1 The foremost of the
hierarchy appears as ferocious to local minds as Hazrat
’Abbas the hothead is to the Shi'ahs of Kerbela. The
petitioner in a dispute will often demand an oath on one of
the higher order, while the defendant will be prepared only
to swear on a lower one. Public opinion in the tribe, which
is formed from the degree of suspicion attaching to the
accused, will then usually decide which shrine it must be.
Oftentimes the accused will confess rather than face the
consequences of false swearing.

’Ali, a well-known Kathiri of Dhufar, once stole a camel
and killed and ate it. He was suspected and accused, and
thought he would take the risk of swearing a denial on the
shrine of Bin Othman. He swore; that night he was stung
by a snake in the foot and his foot withered. He promptly
betook himself to the man he had robbed, confessed his
guilt and paid him the price of his camel, lest worse befall.
’Ali lives to this day, and if asked what caused his foot to
wither will reply, ‘Bin Othman.’

1 The complete list of local shrines in the order of their avenging powers
is as follows :

Name. Place.

Salih bin Hud (Between Hasik and Ras Nus).

Bir ’Ali Murbat.

Bir ’Arabiya Risut.

Shaikh ’Ali ’Afif Taqa.

Shaikh ’Isa KhorTaqa.

Zahair Murbat.

Nabi ’Umran Hafa.

There is in Hadhramaut the famous Qabr al Nabi Hud, the prophet sent
to ’Aj, according to the Qur’an, and therefore a personage of the first rank,
but perhaps the most famous anywhere is Bin Juwahir in Mahri country.
It is so potent that murder will be tried by it. Tv/o lesser local ones are
Bin Othman at Rakhiyot and Nabi ’Aiyub, the only one to be found in
the Oara Mountains.

[ 85 ]

THE QARA MOUNTAINS

But swearing on a shrine is not always sufficient. A
suspected murderer may be called upon to undergo the
ordeal by fire - tamrit or bestia , and my Qara host, Shaikh
Hasan, had as a young man been sent to the Hadhramaut
to undergo the ordeal before the mabesti a , had emerged
vindicated, and lived, as he assured me, to believe in its
efficacy.

Not every man, however endowed with these powers and
with the requisite learning, will dare to practise for fear of
the assassin’s dagger, for so suffered Baihan, a blacksmith of
the Yaham tribe, a famous mabesti a or master of ordeals in
Wadi Irma. ‘But,’ said my informant, ‘who is there who
will not accept the decisions of ’Ali bin ’Abdullah bin
’Abdul Wadud, whether he be dheheb or hadid , gold or
iron, innocent or guilty.’

The ceremony takes place between the dawn and noon
prayers. The parties assemble before the fire. The in-
quisitor inserts a knife blade into the fire, and after some
time has elapsed the accused opens his mouth and puts his
tongue out. The inquisitor then takes the tip of the
accused man’s tongue in his kerchief between finger and
thumb with one hand; with the other he withdraws the
red-hot blade, holds it to his own lips in benediction and
then gives two smart raps, first with one flat side, then the
other, laterally across the outstretched tongue. The accused
should be able to spit at once if the portents are propitious,
but two hours are allowed to elapse before the tongue is
examined. If there are signs of swelling or undue burning,
or gland affection in the neck, he is declared guilty and
must pay with his life or as his accusers may require, but if
there be none of these symptoms, he is adjudged innocent.

‘But what of its justice?’ I asked.

[ 86 ]

THE ORDEAL BY FIRE

‘It is true wallahi , by God, the fire is powerless to harm
the innocent,’ Sa‘id replied, and I thought of Nebuchad-
nezzar and his burning fiery furnace, and ‘the furnace of
affliction’ of Isaiah. Sa‘id’s sophistication dated from
journeys to the pearl fisheries of Oman and was increased
by his being able to read a little. ‘Does not the mabesh’’ a ,’
he continued, ‘invoke God to witness by kissing the blade
and saying:

‘ “In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful,
O fire, O fire, be cold and at peace.

As it was to the Prophet Abraham (upon him be prayer
and peace!).” ’

‘What, O Sa‘id, is this you say concerning the Prophet
Abraham ?’

‘Surely you have an account in the Old Testament?’ he
asked.

‘No,’ I returned.

‘Don’t you know,’ he said, ‘that the Nasara - Nazarenes
- Christians, your forefathers, wishing to kill the Prophet
Abraham, hurled him into a burning wadi, and God sent
the Angel Gabriel and quenched the fire’s appetite so that
it did no hurt to the Prophet, and he was delivered P’ 1

I have already dwelt at length upon their pagan cults,
but the account would be incomplete without a word about
witchcraft, in which there is widespread belief. Old men
are particularly liable to suspicion, and are sometimes killed
on the grounds that they could never have attained so ripe
an age except by communion with supernatural powers.

1 The story is in the Qur’an, but not, of course, with Christians as the
tormentors.

[ 87 ]

THE QARA MOUNTAINS

Death is often attributed to the spell of some suspected
witch, who is forthwith persecuted. A tribesman of Bait
ash Shaikh, who incidentally fired on us when we
approached his camels in Wadi Afar, had as a young man
killed his widowed cousin for a witch - an act which
received public approbation, if indeed it was not actuated
by public opinion; and a case occurred within a month of
my arrival, where an alleged witch had been done to death
by unknown hands. It appeared that she had long been
accused, but had proclaimed her innocence and had sub-
mitted herself to the ordeal of fire. She emerged from the
test vindicated, but even this failed to convince her tribe.
It w r as a case of lynch-law in its most elementary form.

Murder in these mountains, is, however, a common
occurrence. Life appears to have a low value. Blood feuds
actually divide the Qara one from another, and exist
between sections of them and sections of A1 Kathir and A1
Mahra. None of these tribes acknowledge one paramount
shaikh, and their relations one with the other vary from
time to time. They seem to regard government as a
superior tribal section.

At my camel side one day ran a Qara tribesman. The
quality of his rifle and full bandolier, to say nothing of his
self-complacency, showed him to be a man of standing, a
qubaili . Salim was his name.

As I was riding on ahead of my party he took my camel
rope from time to time to lead me along the path in the
jungle least obstructed with overhanging branches, that I
might not have to dismount.

‘Are all infidels like you?’ he presently asked. ‘Big red
men, with red beards and blue eyes:*

‘Yes,’ I told him.

[ 88 ]

GOSSIP WITH A MURDERER

‘And how many cows have you got?’

‘None, alas!’

He eyed me critically, wondering where my dollars
could have come from.

‘And is it true you kujfar find your money in the rocks
of mountains ?’

‘Quite true.’

‘God pardon you,’ he returned, as though to ask forgive-
ness for the possessors of this black magic.

‘Is there money in our mountains here?’

‘I don’t know, Salim.’

‘Then why do you come here?’

‘Because I like to travel, and meet the sons of men, and
study all God’s creatures.’

‘But do you get money for it?’

‘No, it costs me money,’ I said. ‘These specimens that
I pay you a dollar each for, nobody in my tribe will give
me a dollar for the whole lot.’

He looked at me strangely. ‘And these mountains, are
you not afraid to come into them ?’

‘No! Why should I be?’

‘ Ta hamr al 'air? - O red of eye - he said flatteringly,
‘Taimur the Sultan has been here only once.’

‘But I love your country, Salim. It reminds me of my
own,’ I added.

Murder was the subject which seemed to obsess my
questioner, however, for he kept returning to it. Did I
know, he went on, ‘that a man of his tribe had recently
killed a government askariV

‘Why did he do it?’ I asked.

‘Well, don’t you know that in Wali Sulaiman’s time
government had murdered a Qarowi?’

[ 89 ]

THE QARA MOUNTAINS

‘But that was fifty years ago,’ I said, ‘and this askari
lately murdered wasn’t born then.’

‘True,’ said Salim, ‘but he came and mocked a Qarowi
who was the nephew of the man Sulaiman had murdered.
W'allahil he cursed the memory of the man’s uncle, so that
the man was blinded by fury and shot the government
slave.’

‘Well, Salim!’ I said, ‘in our country we have one remedy
and a good remedy it is. If one man kills another, we kill
the murderer. His tribe dare not protect him, and govern-
ment will not accept any requital but the life of the culprit.’

‘Indeed,’ said Salim, ‘but with us, a life from the man’s
tribe will do; and did not government privily send out
another slave who killed one of our men last year, so that
now we are on level terms. But why did they kill Hamdan
ibn Jasim (a stalwart of the tribe) ? JV’allahi! he was a good
man, and I had rather that they had murdered thirty others
and spared him. But ham katib - it is written.’

I enquired for Salim the next day as I had taken a liking
to the man, and thought of taking him to Dhufar and giving
him a small present. But there was no sign of him. He had
fled, and for good reason, for I discovered afterwards that
he was the actual murderer of the government askari and
conceived himself as having a blood feud with the Sultan’s
government, which had indeed at the time of the soldier’s
murder wished to take Salim’s life.

I thought of our hour together through the lonely forest
yesterday, and breathed a sigh of relief.

VIII: THE Q A R A MOUNTAINS-
FAREWELL

AWN brought with it the hour of prayer. The
jlfigures of my companions sleeping everywhere on
Jl ^ /the grass now began to show signs of life. Indi-
viduals, Qara and Shahara, roused themselves to pray where
they stood, using dry earth for the prescribed ablutions, and
I wondered how their Shafi’ tenets permitted this laxness;
while my three Omanis of the more punctilious Ibadhi sect
went off with their rifles - in these mountains no one would
move a yard without rifle in hand - up the valley to the
pool for the ablutions without which their prayers would be
null and void.

The Muslim prayer duly offered five times a day by
these wild men seemed more like an incantation in magic
than any stirring of the spirit. Even with the orthodox,
more importance attaches to correct ablution, the exact
hour and posture than to the very words, or so it would
seem to a disinterested onlooker; while these mountain men
just gabble the lines aloud with impious haste, looking
irreverently this way and that throughout.

As to women and prayer, about half the mountain
women are said to pray; probably a liberal estimate, for I
have never seen one in the act of prayer in public view,
and here as elsewhere in Arabia it would be as unthinkable
for men and women together to pray in public as to eat.
Yet if report be true everybody, man and woman alike,
observes the Fast of Ramadhan which again would seem of
less spiritual than ritual significance - something that if
neglected might bring down God’s wrath.

Later came along five travelling Badawin of the steppe,

[9i]

THE QARA MOUNTAINS

easily distinguishable, for environment and calling have
left their mark. Legs not required to climb mountains
are less muscular, and tend to bandiness with much riding;
while feet that turn inwards are an unmistakable sign, when
accentuated, of the man of the desert steppe. Their dress
was typical too, musur and long-sleeved dish-dasheh reaching
below the knees. Their names added confirmation, Bir 1
Annekid, Bir ’Uwaiga, Bir Annegim, on the pattern of son
of Kate, son of Jane, etc., for the nomad practice is that a
man as often as not is named after his mother instead of his
father, a custom nowhere to be found among town dwellers,
or these mountain tribes. These five Mahra had come by
ship to Sudh, a frankincense port under Ras Nus, to collect
dues of debtors (their slaves?) who were ‘serving the
frankincense’ this season, and now they were returning to
their place, the mighty Wadi Rama (sometimes Arma).

Next came another Mahri, but obviously a native of
these mountains, bringing a snake which he held by the
back of the neck between finger and thumb, while it coiled
itself menacingly about his wrist. ‘It has stung me,’ he said,
and holding up his other hand showed a pin-point of blood
on his second finger, which was much swollen from being
tied tightly round the bottom to prevent the poison from
spreading. He now put the snake on the ground and it
showed itself still full of life. As I edged away I saw him
dart his hand out to secure it once more, but it was too
quick for him, so that he caught only the tail. The monster
immediately veered round and, with a sharp strike, stung his
hand again, and I turned away sickened, for the bystanders
declared it to be poisonous. Holding it out by the tail at

1 bin (Ar.), bint (At.) = son of, daughter of, become in these languages
bir and birt. Sometimes the b is elided, whence ir and irt.

[ 92 ]

A CASE OF SNAKE-BITE

arm’s length, so that its head hung earthwards, he slid the
other hand gently from the tail downwards to its middle,
and then with a lightning movement grasped it again by
the back of the head, and so squeezed out its life. I handed
him over the customary dollar, but without the customary
joke, for I was much exercised lest the man should die and
the tragedy put an end to further hunting in these
mountains, and even prejudice my larger schemes.

Yet another party of local Mahra, Bait Shaitana - the
Devil’s Family - suitably named, for they are of evil
repute, headed by their crippled Shaikh Labkhit, came to
see me. One of them wanted a drug against shortness of
breath dating from a bullet wound received in a raid. He
showed me where the bullet had entered and left his body,
clearly to the hurt of both lungs.

‘Then have you any medicine for a useless leg ? The man
isn’t here, he can’t walk.’

‘Since when ?’ I asked.

‘Since getting a bullet through the head.’

‘There isn’t any remedy in the world that will help,’ I
said, scenting paralysis.

l Al hamdu itllah rabb al aimin' (Glory to God, Lord of
the Two Worlds), said one, in a spirit of resignation, and
the four men looked disconsolately at one another, but I
felt myself being judged. Either I was too niggardly to
help them, or I lacked the magic or skill which they had
believed me to possess. I gave them some dates and sent
them away with promises of reward if they could bring me
a badger, most difficult of all specimens to collect.

After dark the shaikh and his four sons came over to my
tree and entertained me with their mountain songs in
Shahari, while the carcass of a coney I had shot that day

[ 93 ]

THE QARA MOUNTAINS

was left out where I hoped its scent would attract a w'olf or
a fox. The big red Arabian fox - the local ones seem to
have an abnormally dark ventral surface - is very common
in these mountains, and whenever I swept a torch round
my camp bed, I could be certain of lighting up a pair of
bright and brazen eyes. My Arabs were supposed to keep
watch by turns, but to-night I walked across to their tree
to find them all fast asleep, the Kathiri whose watch it was
having first hauled the coney up into the branches, so that
there should be no gnawed remains in the morning to show
his lapse. I touched him with my foot, whereupon he leapt
up with a startled shout and grasped his rifle, as every Arab
in such circumstances does, for there is no tribe without its
hereditary blood-feud that makes each man of it fair game
for some enemy. Sa‘id now kept his vigil and was rewarded
almost immediately by a fox that prowled in his way, but
this scarcely made up for a panther which had been shot
at and missed in the Wadi Nihaz.

These mountain tribes being sedentary, have a sense of
proprietary right not found in the Badawin. While in
theory trees and grazing belong to no man, sections of
tribes hold squatters’ rights. Caves, too, are privately
owned. They pass from father to son, but are not entailed,
so that a present owner could at any time dispose of his,
within the limits of his tribal section.

‘But what of your caves bordering the steppe?’ I asked a
Bait Kathiri.

‘As free as the air and the desert,’ he said. ‘To-day I
occupy one and move on, to-morrow it is occupied by
another. They belong to no man, but are of God’s creation.’

In the villages of the coastal plain, where man makes a
house to shelter himself, the first thing he does on staking

[ 94 ]

THE SACRIFICE OF BLOOD

it out is to hammer four long nails into the corners to keep
out the Evil Eye. When the house is completed he
slaughters a lamb on the threshold as a sacrifice to his walls
enduring - a ceremony such as we perform in a degenerate
fashion when ships are launched with a bottle of wine. In
some parts of Oman when a new house is finished the
prospective occupant will first slay a sheep, dabble his
hand in the pool of blood and smear the door-posts. A
similar custom is also observed in the plain of Dhufar, but
during building operations. The meat is eaten by the
builders themselves and the blood is smeared indiscrimi-
nately over the walls. On the completion of the house the
incomer dashes two hen’s eggs on the threshold, two on
the stairway, and two on the upstairs doorway.

Fifteen is the customary age for both sexes to marry, but
a boy is sometimes married before that age to prevent his
acquiring bad habits. A girl too may be given in marriage
before attaining puberty if her father is alive and gives his
consent. If one party is of age, immaturity in the other is
not held to be a hindrance to sexual relationship.

‘But are these marriages common ? What of your own ?’
I asked Shaikh Hasan.

‘I was grown up, sixteen, perhaps,’ he said, ‘when my
father found me a woman, but Labkhit here,’ and he
pointed to his eldest son, who appeared to be on the brink
of manhood, ‘I married him to his bint ’ am (paternal cousin)
two years ago. Now he has grown up he loves another, and
when you dismiss him at Dhufar, he will, of your bounty,
return and marry her.’

‘And what of his cousin wife?’

‘ W'allahi , she is the fairest girl in the mountains, and has
property as well, but he does not love her, but the other.’

[ 95 ]

THE QARA MOUNTAINS

‘Is she young?’

‘No, old!’

‘Twenty,’ I suggested.

‘God forbid,’ he replied, ‘eighteen perhaps. He will
divorce her and she also will marry another.’

It is scarcely surprising that marriage in these mountains
is embarked upon in a spirit of levity. The bride is a
marketable chattel. The most expensive costs about twenty
cows (four hundred dollars), the cheapest one cow or even
ten dollars - this marriage price is termed gailap. The
bridegroom and bride’s male representative, generally
father or brother, descend to the plain where a Qadhi
legalises the marriage, and on returning, the womenfolk of
the tribe, preceded by men of her locality, conduct her to
the cave of her spouse, where the only furniture will be a
small carpet bought for the occasion. The man will have
slaughtered a cow or perhaps two, if he is well off, as a
feast, but beyond the rabot chanting of the men 1 there is
no wild dancing and merry-making such as mark the rite of
male circumcision.

Divorce is supremely easy for the man, as throughout all
Arabia. He has only to tire of his wife and say so in the
usual formula and she must go home to her father, with a
parting gift of half a cow. Divorce by the woman is also
easy, though financially more onerous, for she must return
to him half the marriage price, which may amount to ten
cows. Both are immediately free to marry again. Divorce
does not require a Qadhi’s sanction, so marriages and
divorces are frequent. A man may by religious law have
four wives at any one time, but the general rule is one, or
at most two. If a woman has borne her husband children

1 See Appendix VI.

[ 96 ]

DIVORCE AND RE-MARRIAGE

he is usually unwilling to divorce her, but when he marries
again, inevitably a young girl, it is customary for him to
pacify the older woman with a gift equivalent to the new
bride’s marriage price. Thus women acquire wealth,
indeed the independent possession of property by man and
wife is regarded in a favourable light.

‘How many children have you got, Instahail ?’ I asked of
one of my Qara escort.

‘Three,’ he said, ‘a girl and two boys.’

‘From the same wife?’

‘No, the girl is old and is the woman of Fadhlallah here.
Her mother I divorced.’

‘Why ?’ I said.

‘She bore me nothing (that is, no sons). But it was she
who asked for the divorce.’

‘And did you claim half your gailap back ?’

‘More. I gave six cows for her, and demanded and got
eight for her divorce.’

‘And what gailap did you get for your daughter’s
marriage ?’

‘Four cows. She was worth more, but Fadhlallah is her
cousin, and could afford no more, so I let him have her.’

‘So you were six cows to the good. Two from your wife,
and four from your daughter?’

He laughed. l W' allahtl I was a fool, for she married Bir
Zaidi and bore him four sons.’

‘And your second wife ?’ I enquired.

‘She bore me three sons and six daughters, but only two
of my sons live.’

‘And supposing you meet the first wife who is the wife of
another, what are your relations?’

‘I may not salute her cheek or hand, but only ask “ het

G [97]

THE QARA MOUNTAINS

bi khar?” - Are you well?’ -(the usual greeting of the
mountains).

A woman works under two extraordinary interdictions.
She may not milk the animals; she may not cook the food.
These are men’s prerogatives. Her occupations will be
grazing and tending cattle, collecting firewood and water,
making pottery, cutting hay for the bed. But her main
object in life is to bear children, preferably males. Contra-
ception is unknown, and the idea abhorrent. Child-bearing
is easy to her. She works up to one day before the birth and
bears under a tree in the open or in a cave, in the standing
position of a quadruped with the assistance possibly but
not always of one other tribal woman, who may be her
mother or sister. She is fit for work the next day.

Illegitimacy is almost unknown throughout these moun-
tains, despite the greater freedom enjoyed by women. This
is due to easy marriage, divorce, and re-marriage, not to
drastic penal measures such as are resorted to elsewhere in
the peninsula. In Oman, for instance, a girl, unmarried or
married, who had willingly transgressed and was with child,
would be killed by her father, brother or paternal cousin,
but not by her husband. Here she would be turned out of
the tribe and permitted to go off to the coast to fend for
herself. In Oman the man who had seduced her would, if
the act was by her consent, escape penalty and be free to
come and go. In the Qara Mountains he would be pursued
by her male relations. If they could wound him with a sword
so much the better, but if he fled, they would hunt his wife,
or sister, or mother and make the punishment fit the crime.

The girl of the mountains having been affianced while she
is yet unfledged in body and mind is safe from irregular
overtures. For a girl’s first marriage it is the inviolable rule

[ 98 ]

LOOKING DOWN INTO WADI ARBOT FROM FUZAH

BETROTHAL CUSTOMS

for her father to provide a husband without consulting her.
This rule in Ibadhi Oman is so rigorous among the elect
that it would be shameful for a father to consult the wishes
of his daughter or tell her of his visit to the Qadhi con-
cerning the nuptials, so that she knows very little until the
night she is conducted to her new home.

Here, on the other hand, the boy’s father may speak to
the betrothed girl herself, and will certainly speak to her
mother, praising the qualities of his son. Once the mountain
girl has been divorced and is considered a woman, her
wishes concerning a future husband will be consulted, and
cases occur of her marrying the man of her choice if he have
the approval of her father. The right of bin am , the paternal
cousin, elsewhere in Arabia universally accepted, 1 is not
insisted upon in these mountains, except by the Mahra,
where the sole right of disposal vests in the father.

We left Khiyunt. Our way climbed by a wooded bank
out of the valley on its south-west side to a point 1850 feet
above sea-level, where I was able to check my position by
compass bearings on known coastal points. Thence we
proceeded for the rest of the day on a course a little to the
east of south, through rolling meadows of wild oats. The
country became very stony and wooded and the valleys
deeper as we went; so I dismounted and proceeded on foot
with a butterfly net and killing-bottle, sending the camels
by an easier but longer way round.

I was thus separated from the rest of my party when a
Kathiri Badu came running up behind, shouting in alarm.

‘Stop, Sahib, stop! You have no rabia with you, and Bait
Qutun have held up our camels.’

1 The Prophet himself was the issue, not of cousins german, but very
distantly related.

[ 99 ]

THE QARA MOUNTAINS

Bait Qutun, a section of the Qara, were in evil odour with
government at Dhufar; one of their headmen I had left in
prison at Salala; they had refused to pay the year’s taxes and
were raiding.

However, I was in no mood for halting.

‘ W* allahiV he shouted excitedly. ‘Bait Outun are capable
of any evil. Did they not kill a government askari last year ?’

I had no Qarawi at hand and in fact could do no good if
I went back; so I decided to press on with the single slave
that was with me in the hope that we would meet no evil
in our way. The road of Hamirir led along a ridge that
sloped on either hand into thickly wooded wadis, Arbot on
our left hand, Nihaz, of Bait Qutun, on our right. And thus
early in the afternoon, after a three hours’ unprotected
tramp, we arrived weary and footsore at the water-hole of
Fuzah, overlooking the Arbot; my aneroid read 1350 feet.

For our camp at Fuzah I chose a tree at the top of a field
of waving grass that looked out across a scene of much
grandeur. The yawning valley of Arbot below us went
sweeping round to where it debouches in the Jurbaib, the
plain on its far side framed with a ribbon of silver sea. Here
edging the plain the seaward slopes of the mountains
stretched away in diminishing perspective to hog-backed
Nashib, the great wadi entrances marked by spurs were
discernible at this distance only by the shadow that each
cast upon its neighbour.

Here at Fuzah was no lurking enemy, but only a young
shepherdess passing, and from her I bought a goat to take
down into the wadi that night and tie up over the water as
decoy for a possible panther.

Two hours later my delayed camels arrived, the Qara
being reluctant to talk of what untoward events had

[ 100 ]

DHUFAR * CENTRALQARA MOUNTAINS.

THE QARA MOUNTAINS

befallen them upon the road. Their day had been exhaust-
ing, nevertheless they cheerfully took their water-skins and
descended to the Arbot to bring water from the pool of Tn,
Fuzah being merely a dirty trickle.

Magnificent climbers are these men, with clean muscular
legs, and the eight hundred feet of steep descent followed
by a climb with full water-skins across their backs was as
nothing to them, nor did they find terrors in the under-
growth after nightfall, though it proved to be a veritable
snakepit and I collected four snakes (two of them puff-
adders) within the first twenty-four hours of arriving.

Two nights had passed. I lay awake at 3.30 a.m., a dark,
raw, damp night, under low clouds and a dwindling moon,
when suddenly a distant rifle shot rang out, and a little
later came the faint sound of men chanting. My first
impulse was to rejoice at the thought that my panther party
sitting up over a sheep in the valley below were celebrating
a kill. But it was a kill of a different kind.

A young Qara shaikh tripped against my bed in the
darkness, startling me, for I had heard no footsteps; off he
went in the direction of the chanting to investigate it, and
on a hill but two miles away found the corpse of a Mahri
tribesman, hot still with lately ebbed life, and bloody from
a shot wound in the heart.

Early in the morning he and Shaikh Hasan came to me
to suggest that we could not safely remain longer. We must
move, and in this the Kathiris, a lazy pair, agreed. The
memory of their own blood-feud with the Mahra rendered
them unusually alert. They feared that the deed was that
of some hothead of their tribe, so that their own lives would
be exposed to peril.

‘And who do you suppose did it. Shaikh Hasan ?’ I asked.

[ 102 ]

MURDER IN COLD BLOOD

‘God knows. Bait Jabob (a Qara section), I fear. Did you
not hear a fusillade after the chanting? That came from
their direction and sounded to me like a tribal cele-
bration of the murder,’ which indeed it proved to be.
‘The Mahra killed a Jabobi last year in a raid. Bait Jabob
have now had their revenge.’

‘But the Mahri must have known. Why did he travel
in Qara country? Was there not a truce between them?’
I said.

‘Yes, the Sultan made a truce for one year. That expired
two months ago, and the two tribes between them then
made another truce for another year.’

‘So this was treachery?’

l Ham katibj said the shaikh. ‘It is written.’

A truce had indeed been signed. The signatory of that
truce was none other than the murderer himself. He had
sworn that his whole tribe would avoid shedding Mahri
blood for a year. After two months he had himself dogged
a Mahri’s footsteps and slain him while he slept.

I knew the murdered man, Sahail. He was one of those
four of the Bait Shaitana who had come to see me at Khiyunt
but three days before, and had told me a folk story. A
young man and a splendid specimen of his kind. That
indeed is the way of the blood-feud. It is not always the
murderer who is pursued; some outstanding man in the
tribe, particularly if he be the culprit’s cousin, is usually
marked down and ambushed, as on this occasion.

‘But why, O Hasan, did it take place here close to my
camp? Whose territory is it? Bait Jabob’s?’

‘No, my own!’ replied Shaikh Hasan, ‘but by our sanc-
tions I am not to blame, for he had no rabia from me. If a
rabia had been with him, then would our faces have been

[ io 3 3

THE QARA MOUNTAINS

blackened by an abominable crime. If Bakhit (pointing to
his son) were rabia to anyone killed by the Qara, we could
not rest until it were revenged. I would rather Bakhit
were killed than that the man under my protection should
die and my son live.’

The speech was according to the book, but I thought
how much more suitably it would have come from a noble
Arab tribe.

Shaikh Hasan and the perpetrators of last night’s murder
were sworn enemies, for the Qara are much divided among
themselves, yet one detected in his faint damning a certain
gratification that a Qara life had been avenged.

I turned to the Kathiri. ‘You must be relieved it was by
no Kathiri’s hand.’

‘God pardon them, we Badus respect a truce, but in these
mountains there is treachery. The Qara and Mahra think
naught of outraging conditions to which they have called
God to witness. W'allahil even the rabia is not sacred with
them. Do you know - but you will not believe it - Sahail
who was murdered last night drank the milk of his
murderer overnight. God forgive them!’

I decided to decend to Dhufar on the following morning
and bring to an end my sojourn in these mountains. The
hyenas, at least, would not regret my going. But, in spite
of recent sinister events the thought of going was an un-
happy one, for I was leaving what surely must be a unique
land in all Arabia, a land of perpetual feasts for the artist,
of endless surprises for the anthropologist, a naturalist’s
paradise, and to me, the wayfarer, a source of much
interest and delight. On this last journey my party did not
retire with the sun as was their wont, and the camp was
alive until far into the night with brisk noises as they went

[io 4 ]

MORNING AT ARBOT

about roping up my trophies 1 and preparing packs against
an early start.

I slept fitfully, and awoke to look down in farewell upon
the valley of Arbot, softly alluring as it came to life from
its still slumbers. The crickets seemed to be silenced by
the false dawn. From the top of the hill where my Arabs
were worshipping, came an indistinct drone, like a
mumbled prayer heard distantly in some vast cathedral.
The stars grew dim in a slaty sky that already turned
amber over the sea whence a great golden disc came
blazing up.

The long grass rustled, stirred by morning airs, and in
the trees birds twittered with the joy of a new-found
warmth. The hill crests lit up while the soft valley between
them still lay hushed under a purple mantle.

But now the sun is risen, radiant, all-pervading. Only
mighty Jabal Nashib with its back to him dare still resist,
its dark mass gaunt beside the shimmering sea. The passing
minutes paint the scene in brighter colours - the clouds like
a mass of thistle-down have changed from green to salmon
pink, and the sky is an intenser blue, the deep valley has at
last awakened, and thence the bare - bosomed foothills
beyond are delicately tinted pinks and mauves, and above
them, meadows edging the sky bask in a golden light.

1 My collection from these mountains was composed of the following:

Hyenas

5

Tree bats

2

Dragonflies

61

Foxes

3

Scorpions

16

Locusts

50

Wolf

i

Centipedes

4

Frog

1

Conies

2

Various Insects*

I 12

Snakes

21

Badger

I

Lizards

28

Tree rats

2

Butterflies

96

Identifications are given in Appendix II.

* Praying mantis, spiders, hornets, etc.

[ io 5 ]

IX: DHUFAR-THE ELEVENTH

HOUR

D hufar fort. It was 6th December. I was recovering
from an attack of dysentery that had kept me to
my bed for three days since I returned from the
mountains.

Two months had passed since I had set out from Muscat;
six weeks and more since my emissaries had disappeared
into the sands. But those sands seemed to me to be even
more pitiless than their own evil repute and I despaired of
receiving news. Perhaps my envoys had been intercepted
by their enemies and put to death, wasting all my years of
preparation and the largess I had so carefully designed and
cunningly dispensed.

To-morrow the Muscat State gunboat Al Saidi was
arriving. I must return in her. Surely there would be
official instructions brought by the commander’s hand to
do so. Some situation might have arisen in Oman, a war
perhaps, a riot, or even lesser mischief to require my
presence. In any event, I was due back.

A messenger ran through the streets below the fort keep.
The crowd kept barring his w'ay to hear his news, for he
had galloped from Murbat after hearing a ship’s salute,
and seeing the red flag of Muscat flying at her forepeak,
and to be first into the market-place with these wares always
brought rewards. From the housetops around rang out a
fusillade to spread the good news, while within the fort I
sat ruminating upon the failure of my designs. Last year
a caravan had taken me some two hundred miles northward
to the very edge of the sands - to be driven back, it is true
- but this year I had not even gazed beyond the Qara Range.

[ i°6 ]

SHAIKH SALIH

Half an hour may have passed in such gloomy reflec-
tions and the sun was near to setting when my servant
Muhammad came bounding up the steps.

‘News! Sahib! Two Badawin have just arrived in the
bazaar from the desert, and they say they are an advance
party of some forty others with camels, and of them are
Ma’yuf and Khuwaitim whom you sent. To-night they
halt over the water-hole of Forum; to-morrow, insha’llah ,
they will be coming down to the Jurbaib. ’

Joyous news indeed if true; but the gunboat would also
arrive for me to-morrow. Had my desert party - if such it
was - come a day too late? Was I to be cheated at the
eleventh hour ?

I looked down into the fort courtyard upon forty dainty
riding camels and as many ragged Badawin, that had come
two hundred miles at my secret bidding out of the sands of
Rub’ al Khali. I looked out seawards where Al Sa’idi rode
at anchor. And now her gallant commander. Captain
Salih al Mandhari, came ashore cheerful as always, and
expecting to take me back to Muscat. I eagerly ran through
the sheaf of letters that he brought. The first bore the
Sultan’s crest. It was dated from India and was in that
intimate and friendly hand I knew so well. I read it a
second time, a third time, and in the strength of the
confidence which marked our relations for six years, I made
a decision. I would send the gunboat back without me to
Muscat. I would attempt the return by another way. I
would join fortune with those attractive ruffians below,
strangers all, and take the plunge with them into the
uncharted wilderness.

Khuwaitim and Ma’yuf brought Shaikh Salih to see me,
and all were at pains to enlarge upon the difficulties they

[ ro 7 3

DHUFAR

had had in getting the party together, and persuading it to
come, the dangers of encountering their enemies, the
hunger of the road (to which the condition of their camels
bore witness), and lastly and inevitably the rich reward
they expected at my hands.

I took an immediate liking to Shaikh Salih. He bore the
magic name of Bin Kalut - Kalut, the most famous lady
in all the sands, daughter of a famous warrior, and mother
of three warrior sons, for to have kindred who destroy
their enemies (and cleave to their friends) is of the very
essence of nobility in this environment. Salih was a short
man, big of bone, with a rather large head, bald - unusual
for a Badu, even of Salih’s sixty years, and a heavy jowl.
His brow was big, perhaps from his baldness, and his eyes
large, his countenance open and frank, his voice slow and
measured; he inspired confidence.

I swore him to secrecy and unfolded my plans. I wanted
no less than to cross the desert from sea to sea.

‘But at what place do you want to come out?’

‘Wherever it is possible,’ I said. ‘Riyadh, Bahrain, Abu
Dhabi.’

‘Impossible, Sahib!’ he said emphatically.

‘What is possible then ?’

‘We can take you into our country, the Rashidi dir a of
the southern sands, and bring you back, and God deliver
us from the Sa’ar, but we cannot take you into the grazing
grounds of another tribe. ’

I was adamant. Either I must cross the desert or never
start at all. It would profit me nothing to do as he suggested.

‘But,’ returned Salih, ‘the Fast of Ramadhan falls a
month hence. Who will travel at such a time, when he
should be fasting in the bosom of his family?’

[ 108 ]

DISCUSSION WITH SHAIKH SALIH

Naturally Salih was in no mood to travel in Ramadhan
or to undertake a longer journey than was necessary. But
a Badu cannot be browbeaten. An inflammable person
himself, he will not stand bullying, -but he understands
resolution, though it is well to give him a day or two to
accommodate his mind to any idea that at first is unpalatable
to him.

The next day Salih came to see me again, and I once
more set forth my irreducible requirements, for which I
was prepared to pay generously. I importuned him, lest I
be driven to embark in the gunboat for Abu Dhabi and
enlist ’Awamir help for my designs from that side. I hoped
he would come with me in that event; this with my tongue
in my cheek. Salih was impressed by this hint that I had
the means of achieving my ends without Rashidi assist-
ance (though I had not, despite the ’Awamir being old
friends), and he became more amenable.

‘But, Sahib, you don’t understand. What you are asking
is not in my power to do. Within Rashidi country I can
and will take you as you wish, God sparing us from the
enemy, but where you want to go is Murra territory. I am
no rabia for the Murra, and dare not enter their marches
myself without their consent and protection. I do not know
whether they will have you in their place. I cannot give
you the undertaking you want.’

It was a fortunate occurrence that Al Sa’idi was here. If
the Badawin were in earnest about the difficulties, then it
would be idle to start on a journey with them; their
resistance would harden as we went along, an experience
that befell me the previous year when I started without a
clear understanding. To start and fail meant returning to
Dhufar a month hence defeated in my major aim and

[109]

DHUFAR

proceeding thence to Muscat by dhow, a forbidding pros-
pect. So I must for the moment keep Al Saidi standing by.

A third day passed and the Badawin from the desert were
reported to be getting restless, for they had expected money
and I had given them only food and camel rations.

Salih came again protesting that he was in an awkward
position, with myself and his men equally unreasonable.
There were murmurs about my objectives, and the most
improbable motive would be accepted by these simple and
gullible folk. It was essential to win their confidence and
to disabuse their minds of ulterior motives, such, for
instance, as spying out the number of their camels for the
ear of Bin Sa’ud or the Sultan Taimur or some other
hypothetical collector of dues, so I deemed it wise to
dissociate myself from any external authority, and avow,
what was indeed the truth, that I made my journeys first
because I liked travelling, and secondly to serve the cause
of 'ilm (science), which my tribe considered honourable.

‘Well, Shaikh Salih, and what is the position now?’

‘As I told you. Sahib, I want to help you, but cannot
promise what you want.’

I was indeed aware of the genuineness of Salih’s argu-
ment, but it would never have done to accept the position
that it implied. Obviously Salih was not in a position to
guarantee the protection of another tribe, especially for a
foreigner and an avowed non-Muslim.

‘But you know well, Shaikh Salih, that the Murra are
your friends; if I pay them well and they see that I have
your goodwill they will make a way.’

‘I believe they will, Sahib, if there is pasture and water,
but only they know the way into their sands.’

This was my real object; to obtain the sworn support of

[no]

SHAIKH SALIH AGREES

Salih that he himself would come the whole way with me,
and work to ensure Murra co-operation, and their marching
through the fasting month of Ramadhan. If he did these
things he should have at my hands a camel, a rifle and a
robe. In our bargainings I induced Saiyid Sa’ud the Wali,
who had just returned, to arbitrate between us, for he was a
man of good standing and much respected, and I was deeply
grateful for his kindness. As a pious Muslim too he bore
witness to Salih’s oath to me that I would be under his
protection, and that no treachery should befall me subject
to two provisos, which were beyond his control - the gom,
i.e. enemy raiding party - and the will of God.

I felt, knowing Salih’s fatalistic standards, that the latter
proviso would render the oath nugatory, but I was careful
not to press for a precise definition, lest it raise a delicate
religious issue, which would have been most inopportune.
It was the spirit and not the word that I valued.

So I had Salih’s sworn promise that he would co-operate
in my design in good faith: ‘But none of these Badawin with
me must know,’ he added. ‘They have come expecting
you to visit Dakaka, our present camp, as you arranged with
Sahail the Rashidi last year. They heard of your bounty to
him, and that is what has brought them to you - tomal -
greed. Avarice. That is the Badu’s burning passion. But it
is well. When we come to the water of Dhahiya their
camels will be exhausted. You shall dismiss them while I ride
ahead and arrange that others come there to carry us on.’

‘But what of the way, Shaikh Salih ?’

‘War, Sahib, war, the Ghafariya of the Ma’arab 1 there

1 There are two hostile political factions, Hinawi and Ghafari, to one
or other of which every tribe in South-east Arabia owes allegiance. Super-
ficially the terms Hinawi and Ghafari would apnear to date from a dynastic

[III]

DHUFAR

is blood betwixt them and us; they are strong. We shall not
insha'llah meet them upon the road. But the Murra, them
you must meet else you cannot go on.’

We had to compute our precise number and rations most
carefully. It was clear that with one set of camels or even
two, I could not possibly carry loads across these hungry
sands in the quick marches I desired; the beasts would lose
condition. ‘Four relays,’ said Shaikh Salih, ‘do not count
on less than four relays.’ He thought that their numbers
could be reduced as we went along, but in the first march
across the steppe, exposed to the Sa’ar, it would not be safe
to move with less than forty. For financial reasons I would
have preferred a smaller party, but my counsellor was right.
Indeed, forty might be inadequate, remembering that
raiding parties of two hundred and three hundred are not
unknown in these southern borderlands where the shedding
of blood, and the robbing of camels and rifles are among the
normal activities of life.

‘And if we meet a party larger than ourselves, Salih ?’

‘There is no might and no power except in God the
Almighty.’

squabble over succession in Oman in the early eighteenth century, but, as
I have observed elsewhere, they are of much deeper significance, for,
generally speaking, the Hinawi label coincides with the tribes of avowed
Qahtani descent and the Ghafari label with those of Ma’adic or Nizari
origin, and all other non-Yemeni stock. Within limits, therefore, the
division is in origin racial. These labels apply as far west as the Sa’ar
tribe, who are regarded as Ghafari, whereas A1 Kathir, of which Ar Rashid
are a section, are Hinawi. So also is the central bloc labelled Ghafari, though
in South Arabia as distinct from Oman, there is no factional solidarity,
and these labels have no political significance.

Ma’arab and Mishgas are used in South Arabia as regional terms for
westwards and eastwards of Dhufar respectively. Thus the Sa’ar and all
other western tribes are Ahl al Ma’arab.

[ I I 2 ]

COMPUTATIONS AND CALCULATIONS

Rations were to consist of butter, rice, dates and flour.
The quantities would determine the numbers of pack
animals required to carry them on each successive stage of
the journey. Too much food would be a great source of
expense, not so much on account of its value, as because of
camel hire, for these desert camels are small and light, and
cannot carry a big load; too few rations would effectively
destroy all chance of fulfilling my aims. I must budget for
four separate relays of men: forty, thirty, twenty, fifteen.
The first party would have their rations issued to them
individually before starting; the pack animals would be
carrying rations of the next three parties. The process
would be repeated at each stage. By this progressive
reduction I estimated I should require fifteen pack camels
at the outset.

Accurate and careful organisation was essential to success,
but could not itself ensure it. We might meet a larger party
of Sa’ar upon the road (news of the three thousand silver
dollars I carried would bring upon me a thousand raiders),
while we would reach the desert only to face three more in-
calculable factors, the first being the Murra attitude towards
my passage through their country, the second whether the
pastures and water-holes were good enough this year, and
the third the possibility of finding Arabs prepared to risk
their camels and themselves and travel during the fasting
month of Ramadhan. The Murra attitude was at present
indeterminable. No stranger had ever been into this
territory, certainly no white man and Christian. Would
they co-operate? Shaikh Salih thought the chances were
even. It was in this uncertain mood, after being held up
for two months, that I marched from Dhufar on loth
December 1930.

H

[ "3 ]

X: OVER THE HILLS AND FAR

A W A Y !

A stream of camels issued from the town gate of
the Husn quarter, where an interested crowd of
black gollywog humanity had assembled to see our
departure and to commit us fi aman Illah - to God’s
protection.

The departure of the Badu is ever sluggish; his thoughts
are with his camel under its strange and heavy load; then he
himself has forgotten something he wanted from the
bazaar which he sees but once in many moons, and he
hands his camel over to a neighbour’s charge and goes
back to dally there for an hour or more.

Khuwaitim came riding up with three giant iron nails in
his hand. ‘Did you remember these?’ he says as he hands
them up to my servant. ‘You will require them for a hob in
the sands, where you will find no stones for your fire.’ So we
halted at Salala while the blacksmith was made to produce a
dollar’s worth, to complete the deficiencies of the entire party.

‘Drink, Sahib!’ and two Badawin handed me up a bowl of
water drawn from the mosque well, and after I had had my
fill, themselves squatted down, for it is 'aib - shameful - for
a son of the desert to drink standing, and drank after me —
a display of tolerance gratifying to me after residence in
’Iraq, where close contact with the priesthood of the Holy
Places of the Shi‘ah persuasion has had its effect on tribal
custom in such matters.

We had scarcely gone five miles, my party straggling out
across the plain in aimless formation, when as we approached
some camel thorn, shouts came from the rear, ‘Let the
camels eat,’ ‘Let the camels eat,’ and the tribesmen, upon

[” 4 ]

CAMEL MANAGEMENT

overtaking us, counselled our dismounting, their excuse
being that Shaikh Salih was still behind. No sooner had I
dismounted than they of? -saddled; the animals were knee-
hobbled by the two forelegs, and so sent off to feed at the
bushes near by. We were there for the night. The rations
were heaped up into a single pile, as precaution against
arch-thieves of the district, for whom the sight of such
plenty must have been a sore temptation. Shaikh Salih
knew their kind too, for when he came along a little later
he stood amidst the baggage, loudly exhorting his party.
l Ya Juma a! Y a Gom - O Assembly! O braves!
i Zad al Wazir - The stores of the Wazir!

‘Fi aman III ah' - are in God’s keeping.
l Wa Ji amankum - and in your keeping.

''Tam tam came an acquiescent chorus from my Badawin,
distributed and busied upon a multitude of activities. Some
were cutting riding-canes from thickets; some oiling their
water-skins to make them tight against the long marches
ahead; the owners of pack animals sat sewing up sacks of
hay as improvised pack saddles, for the ready-to-wear
article does not exist in this remote corner of Arabia, and I
had to buy a supply of sacks at Dhufar; others were looking
over their bazaar purchases, including a large aluminium
kettle, while one fine youth romantically fondled a golden
coloured mirror, probably destined to call a sparkle to the
wondering eyes of some frail and cherished being in the
sands. ‘Come and see ahfat an naga shouted Shaikh
Salih, who sat on the ground with a large sail-maker’s
needle in his hand, bending over a camel that was held
down on her side by a few Arabs in the customary way;
one held the head turned back along the body; another
had a twitch on her upper lip, a third held one leg stretched

[” 5 ]

OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY!

out behind. The operation was to sew a small leather patch
on the side of the foot over an abrasion which had been
caused by the unaccustomed stony tracks of the mountains;
it would be a protection on the morrow’s journey.

No sooner did the Badawin come to the end of their tasks
than they fell to arguing, as they inevitably do, about the
inequality of the loads, each Badu being jealous for a light
task for his own camels: as a result the loads were reshuffled
and I found myself a sufferer thereby, for the mount I had
ridden was taken from me on the pretext that she was not
good enough, and on the morrow I found myself riding an
animal much less to my liking. A day never passed without
some such wrangling about loads, for the camel is her
master’s dearest dear, and he will cease fighting her battles
only with his latest breath.

Two parties lined up for sunset prayer, one led by
Shaikh Salih, the other by my Karabi rabia. According to
my servant, their performance was in pleasing contrast to
that of my Bait Kathir party of the previous year, men who
prayed not in a line but individually, and though they
declaimed aloud were woefully ignorant of the words,
which to instructed ears became a sorry jumble.

We were mounted by seven next morning, and after two
hours’ ride across the plain towards Wadi Nihaz made
Ghaur Fazl, a hole in the grassy foothills. So far as I could
ascertain from local enquiries, this is the only place answer-
ing to Bent’s description of a natural phenomenon he
identified with Ptolemy’s Diana Oraculum. I confess to a
sense of disappointment. It was unusually large, certainly
some twenty feet across, and round its top is a circular
mound which may conceivably conceal a wall as described
by Bent, but appears to contain excavated material as well.

[ II6 ]

THE CAVE OF SAHAUR

The sides of the gaping hole are of bright red clay and show
signs of having, at one time, been bricked or stone-lined.
A pebble dropped into it took approximately two seconds
to reach the dry bottom. It may therefore be assumed to
be a hundred feet deep. The Qara attributed it to Minguwi,
most famous of their mediaeval rulers, as they do every old
relic, and to me also, Ghaur Fazl was the work of man’s
hands. Scattered around it, indeed throughout these foot-
hills, were beehive-shaped mounds the height of a camel.
They are not archeological remains, as Bent suggests, but
ant-heaps 1 - in the language of the mountains, izdirit.

A mile beyond, within the entrance to the Nihaz valley
and on the west side of it, was the famous cave of Sahaur,
a black, gaping hole two hundred and fifty feet above,
amidst a dense forest of trees. Thither I had climbed with
Sahail, a Bait Qutuni, and grandson of that Sahail with
whom the Bents came to see this cave, though they did not
enter. Its mouth proved to be a yawning alcove a hundred
feet wide and some forty feet to its roof of stumpy weathered
stalactites whence rock pigeons fluttered at our approach.
Legend has it that jinns share a dark existence here with
snakes and scorpions, but when I pointed to a tiny low
hole on the left side of the caverned mouth which alone
gave entrance to the interior and asked for volunteers, my
party of five men, y’zVztf-believers to a man, said that they
were ready. So we cheerfully said tawakkul al Allah and
one by one slithered feet foremost into the dark sloping
hole. It was so small that we could enter only lying flat,
but a wriggle of ten feet brought us into a large inner
chamber of irregular shape with comfortable head room,
and utterly dark. My torch showed its formation to be a

1 Ant-hills are sidr in Shahari, the ants themselves izdirit.

[ ” 7 ]

OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY!

pure dazzling white crystalline rock. There was a slow
but continuous drip of water from innumerable stalactites
of slightly darker hue, and small stalagmites sprang up in
places from the floor. A giant pillar had a basin-like
annexe some three feet in diameter on an almost perfect
hollow hemisphere of the same formation. This chamber
led to others, their entrances often very narrow, the one we
explored being only accessible on all fours. The natives say
(though few, if any, have dared its hazards) that the cave
continues as a series of connected chambers for miles back
into the mountains, and at one point is so spacious that a
stone thrown by a man will not reach its roof. It was so
stiflingly hot and sweaty inside that I stayed only for half
an hour to collect some geological specimens and a bat (one
chamber proved to be a veritable cage of bats) before
leading the way out with my torch. One by one we emerged
into the refreshing air and light of day.

We now climbed the Aqabet al Hamra on the opposite
side of the valley through thickly wooded slopes, reaching the
top an hour and a half later, where just short of our old camp
of F uzah my aneroid read 1300 feet. Thence onward through
undulating meadow country on a northerly course to halt at
half-past two at Lehez (2370 feet), just below the Qutun.

Khuwaitim came to me. ‘The water of Aduwiz,’ he said,
‘lies a mile to the west. It is like honey. To-morrow we
Badawin will water our camels and fill our own water-skins
at Hanun, but the water of Hanun is not like the water of
Aduwiz. It is better that we halt here for your water-skin
to be filled with this sweet water.’

‘Why, oh why dissemble, Ya Khuwaitim,’ I thought, for
the real reason, and a very good one too, was that here were
some ghaj acacias, a most unusual tree in these latitudes at this

[118]

THE PENALTY OF THEFT

height, and incomparable food for our camels. I readily
commended the halt, for the best way to win esteem was to
show not indifference but solicitude for the camels’ welfare.

The party straggled uphill into camp and turned to
replacing the old straw stuffing of their pack-saddles with
the new standing hay. Shaikh Salih, like Shaikh Hasan on
my mountain expedition, was the most active of all his
tribesmen in collecting firewood, for tribal shaikhs lead
their followers in war and work alike.

The inescapable crowd of natives surged round our camp-
fires, and my Badawin showed their previous anxiety for our
rations and kit, gathering them into a heap upon which some
of them would sleep and the others lie round it, for they ascribe
to the mountain men almost supernatural powers of thieving.

‘There is only one medicine. Would you like to see a
“cure,” Sahib; an old patient is in the camp,’ and they
brought along a man of the Qara. After some persuasion
he allowed his indigo mantle 1 to be drawn back, and there
appeared a withered arm. The offending hand had been
cut off in accordance with the ‘Law of God’ - Shara‘ law -
by order of the Sultan when on his first visit to Dhufar.
The man had been caught red-handed thieving, and the
appointed slave at the fort had made a good job of it with
one fall of the axe. Good people saw in it a religious act,
but as a deterrent its effect was short-lived.

The southerly wind veered round to the south-west and
blew cold at this altitude. The sky was veiled with low
dark clouds, and the heavy dew vexed me, for I was carrying
no tent with me into the sands. Previous journeys made me
fear that the Murra or other Badawin would so resent the
camels having to bear the intolerable burden of my tent as

1 subaisha.

[ ll 9]

OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY!

to prejudice them against the trip. So I left it behind, and
regretted it during these two December nights in the hills.
The wet and dry bulb thermometers registered almost alike,
my upper blanket was wringing wet and the pillow so
damp that it had to be turned over during the night. I wore
my Arab head-dress as a shawl to sleep in, but woke up
with eyes sticky from external moisture.

The camels couched around the fires sat all night con-
tentedly chewing the cud. They were astir with their
masters’ dawn prayer, and stood like so many statuesque
sentinels, waiting till a little more light and warmth should
sharpen their appetites. Then their masters came to drive
them off to crop the nearest thickets until we set out on the
day’s march.

Our north-westerly course led up into the Qutun, the
roof of the Qara Mountains, and I turned in my saddle to
take a last glimpse of the Indian Ocean three thousand feet
below. Here the meadows ceased and gave place to
stretches of gudelat, a large gum-yielding shrub. Children,
in the hope of bakhshish , ran at my side to hand up plants
that they hoped would excite my favour, now halgurn , a
tomato-like fruit used to clean hides, now subur , a cactus
whose bitter sap is medicine for the belly and balm for the
eye, whilst the skin yields a greenish-yellow dye beloved of
local ladies. Bare bleak hills about us, with rough going,
drew out the party into single file. The divide passed, we
began to descend the far side of the Qara Mountains by the
torrent beds of Qabliya (2500 feet). Our route lay at the
bottom of its bleak gorge, sculped on both sides with deep
cavities - one of these Reddit, a shelter for flocks - while
the boulders lying in the valley were speckled with a white
efflorescence.

[ 120 ]

A DISCUSSION ON RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS

‘ Rahman ar Rahim ,’ muttered Shaikh Salih, riding
immediately behind me, as we passed some graves.

‘We bare our heads in the presence of a corpse,’ I said.

‘And how do you bury your dead ? Is it true the kujfar
burn them ?’

To burn a body destined for physical resurrection would
be sacrilege indeed, and I deemed it wise to pass over the
growing practice of cremation.

‘We take our dead into the masjid,’ I said, ‘and pray over
them to Allah, and then we wrap them in a white shroud
(this very important!) and so bury them in the ground.’

‘W'allahi MusliminV said one of the Rashidis approvingly.

But later in the day I found my view of religion not so
widely shared. A Bait Kathiri youth ran at the side of my
camel and seemed very friendly disposed. By and by he
dropped a little behind and I heard myself being discussed.

‘They are a truthful people,’ said Shaikh Salih.

‘You don’t say so,’ said the youth.

‘And success is theirs in this world!’

'Rubi y'hassabhum.' ‘My Lord will hold them to reckon-
ing (in the next),’ came the youthful response.

''Istaghfirullah.’’ ‘May God forgive them,’ said the
shaikh, as if apologising for acting as my guardian.

The aneroid fell gradually as we moved along the gorge
and after four miles we came to the soft sand of the wadi bed
of Sa’atan. Before us was a panorama of pale sandstone
hills, characteristic in their conical and pyramidal shapes.
Amongst those that bore names the most conspicuous were
the Horn of Fahad, which lay due west, and soon before us,
bearing north-west, the Horn of Shaiba, below which we
proposed to camp for the night. Beyond these nearer hills
we could see a vast waste of red rolling country, its ruddy

[ 121 ]

OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY!

wastes in pointed contrast to the hills and their wooded
meadows behind us.

Hidden in these desolate wadi beds, which drain north
across the steppe, flourishes the wild mughur , frankincense
tree. In appearance it is a young sapling, having almost no
central trunk, but from near the ground there springs out a
clump of branches which grow to a camel’s height and
more, with ash-coloured bark and tiny crumpled leaves.
One of my men leapt off his camel to bring a specimen of
the sap in the raw condition on his dagger blade for me to
see; it resembled green transparent lard and was very
fragrant. The tree begins to bear in its third or fourth
year. The collectors, women as well as men, come to make
slight incisions here and there in the low and stout branches
with a special knife. A gum exudes at these points and
hardens into large lozenge-shaped tears of resinous substance
which is known as frankincense ( liban ). After ten days the
drops are large enough for collection, and the tree will
continue to yield from these old incisions deepened as
necessary at intervals of ten days for a further period of
five months. After this the tree dries up and is left to
recover, the period varying from six months to two years
according to its condition. Collection of the liban is made
chiefly during the summer months. It is stored in the
mountain caves till the winter, when it is sent down to the
ports for export, for no country craft put to sea during the
gales of the summer south-west monsoon. This delay
enables the product to dry well, though normally it is ready
for export in from ten to twenty days after collection.

From Bombay it finds its way to the temples of the East,
a little being kept in Dhufar where the good housewife
may put an incense-burner under the bed at sunset to keep

C 122]

THE FRANKINCENSE TREE

away evil. Frankincense has from the earliest times been a
precious spice and the most acceptable of offerings. It was
used by the Egyptians to preserve the bodies they held sacred.
Pharaohs and others of royal blood, and crocodiles; it was
burned before the tabernacle of the Israelites in the days of
Moses, the hill of frankincense is mentioned in the Song of
Solomon, and it was brought as a gift, with gold and myrrh,
to our Infant Lord.

It is found growing, as a commercial crop, only in
central South Arabia between two thousand and two
thousand five hundred feet in a region 1 which happens to
be identical with the territorial limits of the Qara tribe, from
long. 53°oo E. to long. 55°2i'. Its occurrence on the edge
of the unique summer rain belt of Dhufar suggests that
climatic conditions favourable to its growth exist nowhere
else in the peninsula. If so, this region is not improbably
the famous frankincense region of historic Arabia. In any
case, the famed groves of the Yemen and Hadhramaut have be-
come insignificant ; the tribes of Dhufar remember them not.

For an hour we passed through a grove of young
frankincense trees scarred with the marks of recent milking.
Its Qara owners, herdsmen and not pickers, are content to
rent it to Kathiri and Mashaiyikh for half the produce.

1 Groves are graded by size into, ( i ) manzila , of great extent, of which the
most famous are Afaur, Asug, Afar, Gizilaut, Zuwa, Ata,Tanshit,Qaim and
Amaut; (2) hauiil, of a size that can be worked by five collectors or fewer.

There are three varieties of frankincense: negedi ( nejdi ), shazari and
sha'abi , their quality descending in the same order. Negedi , the silver variety,
is the product of the intra-montane uplands of the Samhan and Qara
mountains; shazari is the product of the mountain region of that name at
the junction of the Qamar and Qara ranges; and sha'abi is a poor quality
of the plain around Risut. The frankincense ports from west to east are
Jadhib, Rakhiyut, Risut, ’Auqad, Salala, Hafa, Taqa, Murbat, Sudh and
Hadhbaram.

[ I2 3 ]

OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY!

This point, but a bare twenty miles from the sea, marks
the northward limit of the settled tribes - the Oara, Shahara,
and mountain elements of A1 Kathir and Mahra; it also
roughly approximates to a geological division. Behind us
were the limestone mountains, Upper Cretaceous to Eocene;
before us was a great wilderness of sandstone steppe sloping
down a six days’ march to the edge of the sands, the scene
of a sparse and sporadic nomad life of Bait Kathir, Mahra
and Bait ash Shaikh Badawin.

It was a joy to be in the saddle again, and a joy to have
left the busy humdrum world of Dhufar behind for these
wide clean spaces. My companions were as yet songless on
the march, as indeed were the other South Arabians of my
last journey, and I missed the rousing camel chanties of the
march in Oman; only Sahail 1 occasionally broke into song.
Still, they were merry enough conversationalists, even if
their subjects were limited to camels, rifles and women.
The conspiracy of silence of European convention is
completely absent, with it the element of conscious in-
decency. It was like schoolboys ridiculing a bad bowler, or
deriding one of their number who persistently failed to
‘convert’ a ‘try,’ for they see no shame in joking about
each other’s impotence with women, and Sahail, the most
persistent of them, wondered whether in my medicine box
of magic I carried no aphrodisiac. But one thing was even
more important, Could I divine water?

Qarn Shaiba, under which we halted for the night, is a
conical hill lying on the north side of the shallow wadi bed
of Sa’atan.

Salih and I being mounted were with a few other
favoured spirits first into the jungle of samr acacia where we
1 Sahail = Canopus, a name common among Badawin.

C 1 2 4 ]

HANUN AND GHABARTAN

were to camp, while the rest of the party, afoot and leading
their unused camels down the rough mountain gorge behind
us, came trickling in, and soon a dozen camp fires sprang
up along the valley. Shisur lay four days ahead, and there
was no water, except the neighbouring water-hole of
Hanun, until we reached it, so we must water camels here
to-morrow and leave with full water-skins for ourselves.

Dawn prayers over, the Badawin scattered in all directions
to round up their camels, and soon they came riding in bare-
backed, and so off to Hanun. Two hours due east, in and
out amongst desolate hills surfaced in places with black flint,
brought us to the high conical hill of Qarn Hanun on the one
hand and a triple-horned system called Ardaf on the other.

Just beyond the earth suddenly opened to form a V-
shaped fissure of crystalline rock, which descended in
terraces of sparkling whiteness to a green wadi floor one
hundred and fifty feet below. The uppermost stratum was
often overhanging; the lowest also had been eroded here
and there into long shallow caves. This was Ghabartan, a
tiny winding wadi which joins the Rakibit within view, and
is thus a source of the Katibit, a big trunk wadi running
north to the sands. Here at its tapering source we looked
down upon the green pond of Hanun in its bed. The
water-hole occasioned the usual disillusionment when I
recalled the Badu stories in its praise - intelligible enough
in a very thirsty land.

Sweet, the Badawin of the sands called it, but I found it
intolerably brackish, and wondered what the water of the
sands they called brackish would be like, for they held
no water so sweet as Hanun. But all such terms are relative,
and to the contented mind the water available is sweet
enough. Hanun was doubtless sweet to the Arab who called

[ 125]

OVER THE HILLS AND FAR. AWAY!

it so, and I recalled a parched and pallid spot in Ghudun
which had been described to me as the gem of all camping
grounds, a ludicrous but doubtless, to my informant, an
honest view. I recalled the Arab proverb, ‘One’s own ass
is preferable to the horse of another.’

The little wadi leading down into Ghabartan is called Ba
Musgaiyif, ‘the place of tombstones,’ and I was anxious to
explore it as its name promised more archaeological remains
of a kind I had discovered throughout this frankincense
belt, and for some miles eastward of it. This was a crude
ground monument sometimes bearing pre-Arabic, possibly
early Ethiopic inscriptions, thereby suggesting that the
central south tribes speaking tongues having Ethiopic
affinities may be of considerable local antiquity. Ba
Musgaiyif proved a disappointment in that there was no
inscribed material among the numerous but badly weathered
monuments.

The more elaborate kind I had met with elsewhere
consisted of a system of triliths, three elongated blocks of
undressed stone (or sometimes round boulders with a
naturally smooth surface), about eighteen inches high,
standing on end and leaning inwards with their tops
touching to ensure stability. These triliths were set up in
series along one alinement, each pile standing at about one
and a half paces from its neighbour. Sometimes the trilith
had a fourth and smaller capping boulder, and occasionally
a series of triliths was enclosed by an elliptical line of small
pebbles. The series varied in number. I found them of five,
seven, nine, fourteen and fifteen triliths. Running parallel
to each series at about three paces distant was a smaller
series of large conical rubble heaps, such as I have seen
elsewhere used for mashuwa cooking, a method of grilling

C r 26]

INSCRIPTIONS ON LARGE ROUNDED BLOCKS OF STONE OF TRILITH

MONUMENTS

NOS. 1-3. IN WADI ANDHAUR. 4.. IN WADI DHAGHAUB. 5-IO. IN WADI DHIKUR. (nC. 5 IS
BROKEN AT BOTH ENDS, AND PROBABLY TORMS PART OF A LONGER INSCRIPTION')

OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY!

flesh on heated stones. These, I suggest, had some sacrificial
significance. Some of the smaller series of triliths, e.g. the
runs of five, were without them; the longer lines had a stone
pile to three or four triliths. Between triliths and sacrificial
piles were sometimes small square boulders which might
have been used as seats.

These monuments had no common orientation; wherever
I found them they lay in w r adi beds and were in line with
their courses. Most of them lacked inscriptions, which may
in part be accounted for by weathering of the soft local
limestone. Inscribed boulders were first met lying near the
monuments in Wadi Andhaur, but in Wadi Dhikur I found
them as the headstone of one of the terminal triliths. The
inscriptions were generally separate characters an inch and
a half high, rudely done, and having a dotted superficial
impression which suggested that the implement used was a
pointed flint. On account of the^ weathering of the stone
many of the inscriptions were so blurred as to be unrecog-
nisable, except for a character here and there. For the same
reason the squeeze and the photographs I took were
unsatisfactory, but I copied the better preserved inscrip-
tions in full. Transport limitations prevented my bringing
back more than one specimen of this work. It appeared
to represent a camel; this I presented to the British
Museum.

I found the monuments in the following wadi beds:
Sarab, Ainain, Banat ar Raghaif, Haradha, Andhaur (below
Khungari Pass), Dhaghaub, Dhikur, Ba Musgaiyif, and
near Aiyun water-hole. The majority (and most of the
inscriptions) occur in Wadi Dhaghaub and Wadi Dhikur
where there are long lines of them in parallel groups. It is,
I think, probable that they are graves. This is suggested not

[128]

TRILITH MONUMENTS

GHUDUN AND SA’ATAN

merely by their appearance, but by their abundance in
Wadi Dhikur, which preserves a continuous burial tradition,
having a large recent Muslim cemetery, as well as two other
cemeteries of pre-Islamic or at least non-oriented types of
grave, namely, rock burial and the mammoth grave, while
its name could be taken to mean ‘Vale of Remembrance.’

The natives were unaware that the scrollings were
‘writing,’ nor had they any precise knowledge of the origin
of the monument, though they vaguely associated it with
the Prophet’s daughter (Salih bin Hud. Hud’s camel?).

In Bait Kathir country to the west they call the monu-
ments Bit Aba Ghassan, which name would appear to
preserve the Ghassanitae of Ptolemy. There was, of course,
a post-Islamic Ghassanid dynasty of Dhufar, but the
distribution of triliths is beyond Dhufar limits, and the
monuments themselves, judging from their pre-Arabic
inscriptions, where inscribed, their non-Islamic orientation,
and local tradition, belong to ‘The Days of Ignorance.’
The religion of ancient South-west Arabia was the star
worship of the Sabaeans, and it is not impossible that the
triliths were in origin symbolic of the ancient South
Arabian Trinity of Sun God, Moon God and Zahra, the
Venus of the Arabs.

The sun was getting high, and I was anxious to be on
the move, so as I returned past Hanun -where my men were
watering, I called to them urging haste, and they cheerfully
shouted back ‘Yes’; but I knew well as I rode on that it
would not make them hurry. Their love of dallying over
a water-hole, especially if the next one be remote, I knew
from long experience to be an incurable tendency to which
I must resign myself. Shaikh Salih was not watering here,
he and one other were leaving me to-day to go ahead for

1 [^9 3

OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY!

another relay of camels and to spy out the land. They
hoped, too, for a Murri guide from Dakaka, to meet me on
arrival at the water-hole of Dhahiya where I planned to be
for Christmas: to-day was the 13th, but Salih would not
ride our way via Shisur, but north-westwards across the
barren steppe by a route possible only to fast camels
carrying no loads. They were watering at Umm as Shadid,
an unusually deep hole in Ghudun. The descent is by
stages totalling thirty-six fathoms. Umm as Shadid was
made by a falling star, not by the Sons of Adam at all,
God bless you. Whether or not this tradition is a relic of
some ancient star worship, I know not, but I have met it
elsewhere in these southern borderlands. Thus in the sands
of Ghanim and in the Jaddat Harasis are water-holes
bearing the tell-tale name of Khasfa, 1 and the tank-like
depression of Lahit in Bautahara country was ascribed,
perhaps with more reason, to a similar cause.

So Salih left us, with a stock of flour and dates for
the road, and a robe as a gift for the Murri shaikh,
whose importance loomed large. Then, as the noon prayer
ended, our camels came back from watering and by two
o’clock we were on the move. We turned out of Sa’atan
almost immediately and marched on a north-westerly
course that took us diagonally between the two trunk wadis
of Ghudun and Dauka, first across some low hills which,
like other small systems to east and west, were of the
characteristic flat-topped ridges and pyramids of sandstone.
In our path lay Istah, a tributary of Dauka where samr
acacias and palmy asaf or ghadaj delayed my men. After-
wards we crossed another small transverse ridge which

1 This name is commonly given to water-holes supposed to have been
formed in this manner.

[ I3°]

ASTRONOMICAL OBSERVATIONS

marked Hughugit, a twin tributary, and there we halted
for the night. The camels came trudging along with long
palms dangling from their saddles. The Badawin were
carrying these into the sands for their women to weave into
milk basins; some of it perhaps they would themselves use
to make rope and sacking - work meet for men, and in fact
one of the night watch addressed himself to making a hobble
for my camel so that she set out on the morrow with a new
green fibrous rope about her neck.

A strong southerly wind that night proved unfavourable
to my star observations, for it raised waves in my mercury
bath (artificial horizon) and turned the desired pin-point
of a reflected star into a nebulous shimmer. To fix one’s
position by sextant is no easy matter in these low latitudes,
where Polaris is so near the northern skyline that to get a
reflected image of it means sitting at a great distance from
one’s artificial horizon. Sand too was for ever getting into
my instruments in the darkness. So I took with me a
camp-table, on which my instruments were set up at night.
Not my sextant and artificial horizon, however, for it was
necessary to keep secret my star work lest I be suspected
of magic or worse, so these were kept in their padded box
and brought out for an hour each night. Polaris observa-
tions, and meridian altitudes of Achernar and Canopus,
gave me my latitude to check my position from day to day.
To serve the ends of secrecy I contrived from the first, in
opposition to my men who raised the usual bugbear of
dangers and lurking enemies, always to take up my position
on the edge of the camp at some thirty or forty yards’
distance, and not among my Arabs. There, on reaching
camp, my servant would dump my bedding and boxes
while I joined the squatting circle of my companions and

OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY!

shared their conversation and food till after dark. I would
then retire for the night, and my servant allowed it to be
known that no one who wished to see me after that would
be welcome. My three chronometers, two aneroid baro-
meters and a wet and dry bulb thermometer were set out
on the table by routine on arrival in camp and were packed
again in the morning just before leaving. It was necessary
after each day’s march to compare and record the time of
all the chronometers and this was done again the first thing
in the morning to ascertain the performance of each, and
deduce daily rates and Greenwich Mean Time. Height
readings and temperatures as registered by the other
instruments were recorded at intervals as time afforded,
at sunset and sunrise always, and probably twice or thrice
during the night as well. Some of my companions had
never seen a watch. All of them were greatly excited when
allowed to place their ears against the face of the biggest
chronometer to hear the ticking. As they heard the marvel,
their faces would light up with a smile and one would look
at the other in wonderment before suddenly bursting out,
‘La Utah //’ Allah ’ - ‘There is no god, but God.’

Sa’a, that is, a watch, became the generic name for each
and every instrument. It did for my prismatic compass
which I must hold to my eye every ten minutes of the
march for recording our direction against the time (wrist
watch), and cross-bearings on topographical points - neces-
sary data for a route traverse of my journey. But the ‘tick
tick’ was unquestionably the w r atch. Once when we halted
to change camels, I found one Arab who had travelled with
me holding a thermometer to the ear of a friend that he
had brought as a recruit. He was showing off, but his
friend was not impressed, so he set the aneroid to his own

[ I 3 2 ]

CHRONOMETERS

ear and was chagrined; somewhere, he felt, there had been
cheating.

Our march the next day only lasted for three hours. The
Badawin straggled out from the first and spoke of com-
panions in the rear who had not caught up with us from
yesterday. The reason was obvious. Here we were back in
the Istah where there was good pasture while the way before
us to Shisur - and a bare palm was held before me to
indicate its barrenness - was hungry going. Impatient to
get on to the sands, I had hoped to make a good day’s
march, but that suggestion found small favour. The
traveller in the great desert soon discovers that the welfare
of the camel is the supreme consideration. Starts and halts
are normally determined by the quality of the grazing.
Fodder is almost more important than water, for the camel
can carry a load for a week and more without water, but
food is a daily want. The European accustomed to a
programme, a time to start, a time to halt, a time to eat and
an expectation of a certain average daily mileage, gets a
rude shock. The son of these barren marches subordinates
everything to the efficiency of his transport - the health of
his camel. Camp over good pasture with water at hand and
he will not leave it; come upon a few verdant bushes at
noonday, and, though the hot sun is striking down, he will
dally for an hour; arrive at sunset after a gruelling day in
the saddle and if the pasture does not please him he will
insist on riding on, indifferent to fatigue.

And so, to-day, it was with a sad heart I had to couch
my camel at a miserable seven or eight miles from last
night’s camping ground. I went off at once with my rifle
into the wadi jungle. There were traces of a wolf, and marks
of fox, hare and gazelle, but the afternoon proved barren.

[* 33 ]

OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY!

In Wadi Ghudun, a few miles to the west at 1 200 feet, where
samr acacias gave place to the willowy tamarisk, I had got
my first antelope. Oryx leucoryx , a full-sized cow. I took
great precautions to secure her skin whole as a scientific
specimen, for the Badu normally esteems her face skin as a
trophy, like a fox-hunter the brush, and makes from it a
rifle-butt cover. Indeed there was scarcely a man in my
party whose rifle-butt was not adorned with the face skin
of an antelope or a gazelle: scarcely less solicitous were they
for the paunch, the gastric juices of which they carefully
drained and drank with relish before administering the
solid contents in handfuls to their bellowing, protesting
camels. The benefit to the stomachs alike of man and mount
is said to be equalled by nothing else in the desert. These
are but two of the antelope’s seven virtues . 1

Out of the antelope’s horn is made a pipe upon which the
girls of South Arabia play. There is no drum, no stringed
instrument or other manner of music to be found through-
out these marches, but only the antelope horn, and if the
shepherdess may not sing to her flock she may soothe them
with the pipe and find consolation in it for herself. There
may be here some remote connection with our medieval
legend of the maiden and the unicorn, for it is commonly
supposed that the antelope is the prototype of that mythical
beast. Certain it is that he runs with his head down so that
his sloping horns appear almost vertical, and in profile seem

1 The antelope’s other virtues are its skin for leather; its blood for snake
bite; its flesh for exorcism ( hamara , to be described later); its soup for joint
pains; its flesh for meat. They rate it better food than any other beast, a
view I could not subscribe to. Perhaps they reckon by the after-effects of
gluttony upon an empty stomach, for though their diet is usually frugal,
moderation on such an occasion is an unknown virtue, and my medicine
chest was always in requisition after a night orgy following a ‘kill.’

[ x 34 ]

BEETLES AND LIZARDS

to be one, whence the one-horned oryx of Aristotle, and in
the Hebrew text of Deuteronomy xxxiii. 17: ‘His horns are
like the horns of unicorns.’ 1 The unicorn of tradition was
a symbol of strength and a guardian of chastity, a terror to
men, whom he devoured at sight, but according to mediaeval
legend a ready victim to a pure young virgin. On seeing
her his ferocity abated, and he would meekly come and lay
his head in her lap, and submit to the caresses that made him
her willing captive.

We made an early start, and left the last slight ridges
behind to move across an utterly flat and featureless plain,
now a hard sandy floor where in places we came upon nests
of fossilised oysters, lying on the surface as they might have
on an ocean bed barely covered by the fine sand, now fields
of flint or rubble and at rare intervals an outcrop of
laminated red sandstone. There was no animal life and all
I collected was a beetle, a snake ( colubrid ) and a lizard, the
last named, however, of great interest to the Natural History
Museum, for it was new to science - abu qursh , ‘the father
of the dollar,’ the Badawin called it, on account of its round
tail. And so a dreary ride for seven hours, when I judged
we had made twenty-one and a half miles. The next two
days, which brought us to Shisur, were alike - a vast
expanse of featureless wilderness. The only movement
came from sand devils, wTich raised their spinning columns,
bringing with them a refreshing gust of wind. Not a
vestige of vegetation, and our camels seemed to know that
here it was they must step out. We pressed on towards a
white expanse of shimmering mirage that obscured the
skyline and practised its habitual deceit as it receded before
our thirsty column.

1 The Hebrew word used is rim.

[ 1 35 ]

XI: NEJD-LIFE IN THE SOUTHERN

STEPPE

S hisur to-morrow. No wonder it looms so large in
the Arab mind, for it is the first water-hole we meet
for five days, and after leaving it there will be none
for a further seven or eight. To-day a long anxious march
across the barren plain, sun-baked and filmy with mirage,
brought us just before nightfall to a copse where it bears due
east. Approach to a water-hole is made with much caution,
for if an enemy is already in possession, there is a choice
between hasty retreat tormented by thirst and fear of
pursuit, or a fight for possession. As always we arrived with
empty water-skins. The Badawin no sooner off-saddled
and hobbled their camels than they wandered off on all
sides with their eyes to the earth for sign of an enemy, or
fresh tracks of a raiding party, while three chosen men went
in a wide cast round the water-hole to see if all were safe to
dig it out for to-morrow’s watering. Shisur’s loneliness
makes it an inevitable place of call for raiders, and it is a
proper practice to fill in a water-hole when leaving to delay
possible pursuers. Here Nature does the work, sand
filtering in and filling it up after a day or two.

Next day we went off there by relays of six to eight
camels, for the thirsty brutes take hours to water out of the
small leathern buckets and the spring is a mere trickle. The
way lies across a spacious stoneless plain (an excellent land-
ing ground) to a rocky eminence crowned by conspicuous
ruins of a rude fort. Undercutting the knoll lies a cave
some fifty feet deep, and in the base of its sloping floor is a
fissure which barely admits a human arm to the water
beneath. According to legend, one Badr bin Tuwairij was

[ l 2 6 ]

WAR AND DEATH

the builder of the fort of Shisur in some distant past, and I
have heard that in the surrounding desert plain are still to
be seen shadowed furrowings as though once it had known
the plough; astonishing if true, for so limited is the water
of Shisur and so arid the place that a fair-sized raiding party
could not last out there for more than a week. ‘The sword
of God has been upon the diraj said one Badu to me in
allusion to the drought of recent years . 1

Beyond to the eastwards in the otherwise naked plain lay
Hailat ash Shisur, another tiny copse, the scene only three
years before of a bloody affray between rival raiders,
amongst whom were members of my escorting Arabs.
Their story was of particular interest to me because I had
myself barely escaped colliding with one of these parties a
hundred miles to the eastwards. It comprised twenty-five
men of the Sa’ar and Karab tribes who had come by this
way to fall upon a small Mahra encampment at the water-
hole of Andhaur. There they killed seven men for the loss
of one, but he a shaikh, and departed with booty of forty
camels. Four or five days later my exhausted little party
reached Andhaur from the east after a six hundred miles’
march to hear of the disaster from a terror - stricken
member of the Bait ash Shaikh; and I remember well taking
part in a discussion upon the unhealthiness of camp-fires
by night; we discontinued them forthwith in spite of bitter
cold.

Now I heard that this particular raiding party, which had

1 On every journey I have made during the past six years in Oman,
and in South-east and central South Arabia, I have heard the same story.
The natives avow that there has been a falling off of rains, scant though
they ever were, within their lifetime. The date crop of interior Oman is
but a half of what it was a generation ago, and many plantations have
perished of drought.

[ r 37 ]

NEJD

been a nightmare to me in that winter of 1927-28, was
intercepted by a chance raiding party of forty Mahra and
Kathir, amongst whom were two of my present escort.
Nukhaiyir took me over the ground and reconstructed the
attack. ‘This is where w^e came up with them; this is where
I lay. We had followed their tracks all day and judged them
to be returning raiders who must halt here at Shisur, for
westwards there is no water until Sanau. There under that
skyline we halted and waited till after the sunset prayers.
Leaving our camels with a few men we crept on, under
cover of darkness, towards their camp-fires. It was nearly
midnight and they had mostly fallen asleep, for we could
see their sprawling bodies in the dying glow. We crept till
within fifty paces and then suddenly opened fire. They
leapt up wildly in the darkness shouting, but in utter
confusion, and we drawing our daggers fell upon them and
God gave us the victory. Praise God from whom all
blessings flow. Four of them fell, and all the booty that
they had taken at Andhaur was restored to our hands, and
we took five of their own camels, too, so that many of those
that escaped in the darkness must have left riding two to a
camel.’

A Badu at Nukhaiyir’s side now interjected, ‘Next day
as I was grazing my camels in Wadi Ghudun one of those
Sa’ar who had been in hiding all night emerged, and coming
up to me implored sanctuary, and I call God to witness that
he had no arms and I spared his life.’

‘Then supposing they had made no fight for it,’ I asked,
‘and all had thrown down their rifles, would you have shown
them mercy?’

‘No,’ said Nukhaiyir, ‘in time of declared war between
tribes, it is shameful, amongst Arabs.’

[138]

*

THE SOUTHERN STEPPE

• Shisur lay ninety miles from the south coast, 935 feet
above sea-level, near the foot of the steppe where it verges
on the sands - from which indeed we were now only a day’s
march.

We had crossed the Nejd, this wide southern borderland
of steppe between ocean escarpments and sands, that
stretches west-south-westwards to the confines of Najran
and east-north-eastwards to merge into the Jaddat Harasis.
Last year I had explored the sand border in the latter
direction for a distance of one hundred miles to the famous
oasis of Mugshin. 1 This year I was turning westwards and
would explore its southern edge. But before continuing the
narrative of my journey it may be well to turn aside to
consider briefly the geography of the southern steppe that
lay behind me.

Reference to my map will show between longitudes
51 0 40' and 54 0 40' a continuous coastal mountain chain
that is known sectionally from west to east by the names
Fatk-Shaghuwat, Jabal Qamr, Jabal Qara and Jabal
Samhan. From its intra-montane side falls away a series of
dry old torrent courses which form a large single wadi
system, and must have constituted from remote times the
drainage of the great steppe. This system consists of seven
main tributary wadis running in more or less parallel
courses northwards from the coastal range to the verge of

1 Wadi Mugshin, surely the Prince of Wadis in all South-east Arabia,
for nowhere have I met its like, consists of a belt of giant acacia ( ghaf )
jungle thirty miles long (east and west axis) on the south-eastern edge of
Ar Rimal. At its eastern extremity (altitude about 400 feet) drinkable
water comes to the surface at ’Ain or ’Ainain. A considerable date grove
growing wild and unattended lines the banks of a marshy bed, and to the
eastward is a trough-like pond a few hundred yards long and some fifteen
wide.

[ J 39]

NEJD

the sands where they join a trunk wadi, and the trunk wadi
marches with the sands in a general north-easterly direction
to a point where it turns and is lost in them in lat. 19 0 35',
long. 54 0 50', a point marked by the bountiful oasis of
Mugshin. The seven wadis all rise in the neighbourhood
of the divide, averaging three thousand feet at a two days’
march from the coast, so that their sources are the region of
the frankincense groves. From east to west they are called
Katibit, Dauka, Ghudun, Aidam, Hagulun, Shihin and
Hat, 1 and their lengths, diminishing, broadly speaking, in
the same order, vary from an eight days’ march in Katibit
to a four days’ march in Hat. The main trunk wadi has
six sectional names, Hat, Shihin, Atina, Umm al Hait,
A 1 ’Aradh and Mugshin, in its course from south-west to
north-east, but the whole system may conveniently be
termed by the generic name Umm al Hait (mother of life),
which name has also the sectional connotation referred to.

To the northward and westward of the trunk wadi, the
Great Sands stretch continuously westward to the confines
of Dawasir and Najran. Actually the southern edge of the

1 The tributary wadis are systems in themselves. Thus Wadi Katibit
has affluents Andhaur, Dhahibun, Ingudan, Ghazal and Rakibit draining
the eastern part of the Qara Mountains and the western part of Samhan.
The eastern limit of the system in Andhaur which rises approximately
north of Murbat Peak (whose alternative name shown on the chart as
Jabal Du’an is unknown to the inhabitants, by whom it is known as Zai-
rutun). Wadi Dauka rises in the longitude of Salala and receives Al Hauf,
Dha’arfit and Ista. Wadi Ghudun rises slightly to the west of Dauka and
receives Hila, Dhuhair and Haluf on its right bank and Ghara on its left.
Wadi Aidan rises in the longitude of Rakhiyut and with its two large
tributaries Difin and Habarut, rising respectively north of Jadhib and
Damkut, drains the whole of the Qamr range. Wadi Shihin and Wadi Hat
are shorter systems rising at the respective eastern and western extremities
of F atk-Shaghuwat.

[ 140]

THE WADIS OF THE STEPPE

sands overlaps the trunk wadi in Mugshin and A 1 ’Aradh,
hugs it in Umm al Hait, and falls away to a day’s march
north of Shihin and two days’ north of Hat. Thence its
trend is west-south-west towards the Hadhramaut, where
only a day’s march is said to separate the mountains from
the sands. The intra-montane steppe of the southern
borderlands would therefore appear to be wedge-shaped,
narrowing to the west, and sloping very gently upwards as
far as long. 5 i° 30' and by rumour further.

West of the Umm al Hait system the steppe is crossed by
individual parallel wadis rising in the mountains of
Hadhramaut and running north to disappear at the edge of
the sands. The names of these, proceeding westward from
Hat, are Mitan, Khuwat, Shu’ait, Arkhaut, Urba, Thumu-
rat, Dhahiya, Thuf, Rama, Aiwat al Manahil, Jinab,
Khadhra, Hazar, Aiwat as Sa’ar and Hudhi.

There are only very rare water-holes, namely, Sanau in
Wadi Dhahiya, Thamut in Wadi Rama, Shagham in Wadi
Hizar and Minwakh in Wadi Aiwat as Sa’ar, so the route
of raiders east and west of Minwakh is precariously circum-
scribed. In the mountain sources of the wadis there is
in places running water, e.g. Andhaur and Habarut, but
their lower courses are all cruelly dry. They follow a
uniform formation. Steep and narrow gorges with pebble
beds form their upper courses; thence they grow wider and
shallower and sandy as they run north, until they lose their
trough character in the plain approaching the sands and
become perceptible only by a line of parched scrub. They
are the arteries of life in the steppe, the path of Badawin
movement, the habitat of animals, by reason of the vegeta-
tion - scant though it is — which flourishes in their beds
alone (see Appendix IV). Elsewhere the steppe is arid and

[Hi]

NEJD

desolate and hence these borderlands are capable of
supporting only nomad Badawin. The summer drought
drives them back into the mountain courses around the
perennial water-holes - Andhaur, Hanun, Shuwairima,
Aiyun and Habarut (these in Umm al Hait longitudes).
But immediately after rain they sally out again and in
winter they may remain for a month or two in favoured
localities, their movements often being guided by their
pillar of fire, the direction of lightning. It is a hungry and
thirsty life and those whose habitat is the hinterland of
Dhufar are drawn back to the settled comfort of the
frankincense orchard, especially during the summer, when
its comparatively rich rewards are the means of acquiring
rifle, ammunition, clothes, coffee, and sometimes rice. But
the true Badawin despise any but their spartan existence.
They live mainly on camel’s milk and hold life cheap.
Raiding to them is the spice of life, and there was never a
man in any of my escorts who had not raided into the
Hadhramaut, nor one who had not been raided in his own
grazing grounds, and some bore honourable scars of bullet
or dagger wounds. Arms and ammunition and the health
of the camel are thus the primary necessities of life;
where hereditary blood -feuds divide the tribes, might is
right, and man ever walks in fear for his life and possessions.

The tribes of importance occupying these southern
borderlands are, from east to west. Bait Kathir, Mahra,
Manahil, ’Awamir, Sa’ar, Nahad and Karab. 1 The Mahra

1 Tribal distribution is as follows: the Umm al Hait system is the habitat
mainly of two tribes, Mahra and Bait Kathir; they also extend to the west.
Nominally the lower wadi reaches of Dauka, Ghudun, Aidam and Hat
belong to Bait Kathir, though the Mahra use them freely; the upper sources
of the wadis (except Ghudun) are largely in Mahra hands, particularly

[ I 4 2 ]

THE LIFE OF THE STEPPE

are the largest, and number many thousands; the Nahad
and Karab, the smallest tribes, only a hundred or two each.

The life of the steppe is primitive in the extreme. I have
already observed that drought and the fear of raiders drive
these tribes back on to their water in the mountains. But
at heart they are wedded to their nomadic existence, and
whenever rain comes they launch out with their flocks and
herds into the desert, where every little rock hollow capable
of holding rain-water has a name and a memory. Here they
remain for a space till once more drought threatens and
hunger drives. There is not sufficient water to support the
horse or the dog. Tents or houses are unknown. In the
steppe their place is taken by the shade of an acacia, and in
the mountains by a cave. The people are wholly illiterate.

Habarut, Ghazal, Ingudan and Dhahibun, as well as the individual wadis
immediately to the west. Scattered about amidst the Mahra and Bait Kathir
are a number of small Hadara tribes, non-Arab survivals. Thus to the
westward of Hat in its lower courses is found the Bilhaf, a rather nondescript
tribe owing allegiance to no faction, but Mahri in speech. A distinguishing
feature of their dress is that they carry a knife, not a dagger, in their belts.
They neither raid nor are raided, and like the Salub of Nejd are accepted
as a rabia by all. They are also servants of the Shrine of Jauhari (Umm al
Tabbakh) where the Mahra pay pilgrimages and make sacrifices. At the
eastern extremity of the Umm al Hait system Wadi Andhaur is nominally
a possession of the Bautahara (Bit Bohor) though the Mahra tribesmen are
usually in evidence there. The Bautahara, a now dwindling and declasse
tribe, most of whom are fishermen, with an exclusive language, were once
the reputed possessors of the whole eastern steppe from Wadi Ghudun (of
the Kathir) to Wadi Qadun (?) (of the Harasis), while the western steppe
is reputed to have belonged to the now legendary Bin Dhurbut. Elements
of another small tribe, ’Afar, live in Habarut with the Mahra and the equally
obscure Bait ash Shaikh (Bit Istait or sometimes Insakht), and thought to be
collateral with the Shahara, occupy Wadi Ingudan near the water-hole of
Hanun. To the westwards of the Umm al Hait system the Mahra tribe
extends to Wadi Rama, thence Manahil to Wadi al Jauf: ’Awamir succeed
as far as Wadi Khadhra, whence commences the Sa’ar habitat.

[ *43 ]

NEJD

Few know anything of the Qur’an, though they pray
zealously. They have a reverence for shrines, and are of the
Shaft’ rite. Alcohol is unknown, but tobacco much
esteemed.

The usual Arab practices of polygamous marriage and
facile divorce obtain, but it is rare for a Badu to have more
than one wife or at most two, at any one time, though a
quiver full of sons is a much-desired blessing. The woman
looks after the flocks , 1 which she is here allowed to milk.

Disputes within the tribe are settled, as is general in
tribal Arabia, by the hukm al hauz, a code of local sanctions,
not the holy or Shara‘ law 7 . Petty theft is rare and looked
on as immoral: but robbery with violence a manly act, and
the raid, with murder and looting, as unquestionably
honourable as military prowess in Europe.

Bodily illness is dealt with by certain herbs (see Appendix
IV), by the branding iron, by exorcism, by the gastric
juices of animals slaughtered in the chase, and by the urine
of the young cow camel. The cautery comes first, and few,
if any, are the dwellers of these steppe lands who do not
bear scars of the hot iron. One process I met with seemed

1 With the Harasis and Mahra a curious custom obtains — that of never
milking their sheep into a cold receptacle. A hot stone, heated in a fire,
must first be introduced. The explanation it suggests, that the warmth thus
applied to the udders encourages a facile milking, is not wholly satisfactory,
because the practice is observed only in respect of sheep, not of camels.

A shepherdess of the Bait ash Shaikh tribe, from whom I purchased a
sheep in Wadi Dhikur, would not agree to its being slaughtered in sunlight
because of the fear that it would bring misfortune to her family, and this
also was a common belief. A Harsusi of my escort informed me that in no
very distant times past the Harasis would not only not slaughter, but not
milk their flocks in sunlight, and to this day there are two breeds of sheep,
banat al mitrtal and banat al muqtuf , which no tribesman of whatsoever
tribe would dare slaughter until after dark.

C H4]

EXORCISM

to me to have some magical significance. My party was held
up by the sickness of one of its number; he had been
suffering for several days from stoppage of the bowels,
which had not responded to all my explosive medicines.
His companions now resorted to a measure they called
ghuwaira. A rifle-bolt striker was introduced into the fire,
and when it became red-hot was applied to seven prescribed
places on the man’s body: left heel, right heel, behind right
ear, behind left ear, centre of forehead - where it joins the
hair - top of the head, and immediately above the navel.
The cure was instantaneous, and we moved the next
morning.

For the Evil Eye, I have often witnessed a rite of
exorcism called hamra ra aba , 1 which is held equally
efficacious for the recurrent three days’ fever from which
they suffer, and for snake-bite. The patient is laid amidst
the circle of his sitting friends and the affected part of his
body laid bare. They then commence bowing low over it
and chanting one of two formulae; slow at first, the impreca-
tions growing quicker and louder and the body bowing
more energetically as the rite proceeds. A leader chants the
lines in a vigorous voice and the rest of the party excitedly
shout their responses, often just ‘ hamra r ci aba' Now and
again one bowing head lingers, with lips to the patient’s
abdomen in the region of his liver, to draw up a mouthful
of flesh and let it flick back as he raises his head; others from
time to time bark, and spit upon the body. And so a climax
is reached. A rifle is sometimes fired at the termination of
proceedings, but that bravery is only used for the ‘Evil Eye.’

I once observed a different rite after hamra ra'aba had

1 The Kathiri tribesmen use a formula in the Shahari dialect of the
mountains. This I have recorded but not yet translated.

K [ r 45 ]

NEJD

failed to achieve results. It is a kind of divination and
propitiation called habil , i.e. the rope, and perhaps may not
be unconnected with the Quranic reference to ‘blowing on
knots.’ The practitioner, rope in hand, sat about three
paces from his patient. A third party was called to hold the
end of the rope. Taking an arbitrary length of it with the
thumb and forefinger of one hand, the practitioner measured
the outstretched length of it with his disengaged arm by
means of forearm’s length, hand span and finger breadth.
The operation he repeated three times, each occasion
preceded by a pause to bend his head low over the rope and
shake his head, making a curious burbling noise with his
lips, and to take a handful of sand which he sprinkled up and
down the rope. In conclusion he looked up at his patient
and gave him the following remedy: ‘At sunset take so
many dates and so much butter and go and cast it away upon
the sands.’

So much for man and his ways.

The animal life of the southern steppe is limited. A point
of interest is that from the nature of their almost rainless
environment animals here must be able to do without water
and to content themselves with the moisture contained in
herbage, or collected in rocks from dews. Zoologically they
belong to the Palaearctic group.

Among the mammals that I shot were the antelope
( Oryx leucoryx) — a comparatively rare kind, gazelle and
fox. I saw marks of wolf, wild cat and badger, but did not
get the steppe varieties of these. The rim or pure white
gazelle is said to be almost extinct, though I picked up a
pair of its horns, lyre-shaped, and with a characteristic tuft
of white hair still attaching to it; in reality this animal,
unlike the red gazelle, belongs to the sands rather than the

[

EDIBLE LIZARDS

steppe. Two hedgehogs which I caught were of a sandy
colour and small in comparison with the larger black type
of Oman. Here they are said to attack and kill snakes, but
to go in craven fear of the vulture, on whose approach they
weakly unbend and, abandoning their natural protection,
become ready victims.

Of birds, I saw no vulture in the steppe, though I had
expected to meet it, but came upon the lifeless body of a
large black eagle. The presence of either vulture or eagle
in the sky is regarded as a sign that an encampment may be
near. The black raven was common, and I shot an interest-
ing example with a neck ringed with white feathers. A
Badu asked for the heart of another pure black specimen
which he proposed to eat raw because of some virtue it
possessed: its bile is also used by them for the eyes in the
same way as kohl (antimony) by the sedentary Arab. A
bird which I did not see but heard night after night at
Mugshin was the owl. Ostriches had been shot in this
steppe by members of my escort in past years, but they are
now extinct (except for a few in the Sa’ar habitat to the
west), though I picked up many fragments of petrified
ostrich shell. The extinction of the ostrich in the southern
steppe dates from its pursuit by Badawin armed with modern
rifles. Of the smaller birds I shot, a finch lark was the rarest
and most interesting scientific specimen; the bulbul, Senegal
sandgrouse, and a brown babbler were indigenous creatures
one expected to find, and a Kashmir redstart, white wag-
tail and Tibetan desert chat were all migrants either passing
to winter in Africa, or possibly cold weather visitors to the
Hadhramaut. I also collected butterflies, wasps, ants and
spiders, a list of which is given in Appendix II.

My Badawin toyed bare-handed with a large scorpion,

[ H7]

NEJD

picking it up, scatheless, by the tail just below its sting. Of
reptiles there were three different snakes - the inevitable
horned viper amongst them - very few compared with
lizards, of which I met ten different kinds. These included
three new species and also the three largest edible varieties -
regarded by the Arabs as a most succulent dish, and more
nourishing even than the larger mammals of the chase. One
of these gave us an exciting hunt. I saw it disappear down
its hole, and soon had three Badawin in chase prodding the
roof with their sticks. Suddenly the tip of a tail appeared
and one of the diggers was just able to get hold of it
between finger and thumb, and although cautioned by his
companions to beware lest it should be a snake, he held on
while they continued digging. Able in time to get a better
grip of its tail, he now, as he knelt over the hole, pulled it
out with a vigorous tug and held it in the air head down-
wards, its eyes rolling wildly and its jaws gaping menacingly.
The Badu now slipped his other hand down its back and
catching hold behind the head held it the other way
up, but the creature finding its tail free lashed back with it
and caught another Badu on the knee, drawing blood. This
man later came to me for dunva for his knee, and I for once
diagnosing correctly the complaint gave him a dollar and
he went away cured.

Another interesting reptile, an inedible lizard, was the
shuwaira ash shams , so called because it delights to sit on
the most glaring eminences in the face of the tropical sun
towards which it nods its head - a large creature with a
tail red and smooth and ratlike, and a heavy pouch of royal
blue under the chin which changes at death to silver. This
creature alone of all the steppe life that I met scorns refuge
from the sun.

[148]

XII: MARCHING ALONG THE
SOUTHERN FRINGE OF THE SANDS

W e bade farewell to the little copse of Mutugtaig
in the bed of the Ghudun, where two days had
been spent resting and grazing our camels and
watering them at neighbouring Shisur. Under an eastern
sky crayoned with crimson and gold we turned our backs
upon it this cold December morning and marched out into
the plain - a wilderness that recalled to me the Land of the
Two Rivers. Scarcely had we been on the move an hour
when my companions started shouting excitedly, ‘ ar rami!
ar ramir sweeping their canes as they did so along our right
front, where in the far distance a sunlit yellow ribbon now
edged the skyline; and I gazed eagerly towards this
southern bulwark of the sands of my desire.

Between the sands and us stretched a dreary plain
unrelieved except by low whitish outcrops, forming low,
rocky ridges - Dhim Himla, Thuwairib, Lahaga, Qarun
Kelba - places honourably known to the Arabs, for here
water collects after rain.

Before us stretched a hundred miles of perilous incal-
culable marches. The open state of war existing between the
tribe I travelled with and their powerful neighbours made
this stage of my journey very dangerous. Many had been
(and will be) the bloody conflicts upon this road along the
southern borderlands, for waterless no-man’s-lands as they
are, yet they are the fairway between water-holes which are
used only and inevitably by raiders on murder and plunder
bent. Any party we met would be a potential enemy. The
stronger or warier party would announce itself with a
volley of rifle fire, prelude to fight or, alternatively, to

[ x 49 ]

MARCHING ALONG THE SANDS

flight. My party betrayed by word, look and act that they
were on tenterhooks, and whenever my camel bore me
ahead of them or lagged behind, someone was soon beside
me to remind me that we were in dangerous country; yet
on making camp never were there dispositions made so far
as I could see for meeting an attack or escaping from one.
The desert holds a philosophy of the inevitability of events.
‘Reliance is in God,’ ‘What is written must come to pass, 5
‘God be praised, the Lord of the Worlds’ - these expressions
are always on Badawin lips, to meet death or adversity or
the expectation of them. In the acceptance of destiny is
comfort; the doctrine of Free Will a disturbing heresy.
Unless the beast became his by the will of God, a man could
not enjoy killing the master and riding away upon her. War
would become wicked, blood - feuds impious, and the
practice of religion impossible.

Before us the conspicuous large white dune of Bin Juli
marked where Umm al Hait, the great trunk drainage
system of the steppe, changes its name to Atina. To the
northwards the great sands reappeared in the distance as a
pale wall backed by ridges of rosier hue. Before them ran
the verdant line of Umm al Hait. When nearer we found
the sands of the valley gathered in hummocks like the roofs
of multitudinous mosques with their thousand cupolas. The
thick tamarisk looked inviting to our fasting camels, and
the poor brutes that had shuffled sluggishly across the plain
trotted eagerly up to the scanty diet before them.

Umm al Hait is a precious name to the steppe dweller,
though if no rain falls for two or three years together, as
sometimes happens, the wadi becomes hungry, bleak and
deserted. The meagrest winter rain will, however, quicken
it into fertility and life - though the blessedness actually

[ x 5o ]

A THUNDERSTORM

before us was the result of the unusually heavy rains I had
experienced in the eastern marches last year.

How well I remembered members of my party pointing
out to my unaccustomed eyes the evidences of some shower,
here the pitted surface of sandy elephant masks 1 about some
tree-roots, there the swept path of some tiny freshet! How
joyously they talked of rain! That night low heavy clouds
raced northwards and forked lightning lit up the black
heavens, while we and our beasts sought refuge from a
howling sand-blast behind the solid hummocks that grew
about the selem bushes. But no one was unhappy. Rain was
about and rain to the Badu is as gold to the prospector; the
morning was welcomed with rousing chanties on the march.
The low, rumbling thunder was like music to our ears. A
drenching would have been glorious. As we went on the
sky grew dark, the lightning nearer, and the thunder-claps
more violent; our camels shared the excitement, sniffing
with their monstrous noses in the air, to the delight of their
masters. We split up into three parties and spread fan-wise
to scout the plain for rain-pools, rather against my judg-
ment, for I felt they would be insufficient, and I would have
preferred to press on towards the certainty of our next
water-hole. Some twenty minutes later a rifle shot rang out.
Ordinarily it would have been interpreted as an alarm or as
a promise of gazelle flesh for dinner. ‘Water!’ exclaimed
Nukhaiyir excitedly. ‘The Arabs’ (Badawin in conversation
always thus refer to themselves in the third person) ‘have
found water.’

‘True,’ said another jubilantly; we wheeled about and
proceeded in that direction. For some time I had felt my

1 The configuration of the accretions of sand curiously resembles the
front of an elephant’s head.

[ 151 ]

MARCHING ALONG THE SANDS

own camel edging that way, never imagining that she smelt
water, but supposing that she fretted after a particular
companion in one of the other parties, for camels that have
been reared together, whether or not of the same sex, find
separation irksome.

‘Are you quite sure it is water?’ I had said a little testily,
for we had already been six hours in the saddle and our
halting place was said to be three hours ahead.

‘Isqut,’ replied Nukhaiyir, which in other parts of
Arabia is an imperative order to ‘shut up,’ but here has the
idiomatic meaning of ‘without doubt.’ We soon breasted a
rise in the plain to see our party beneath us upon a stony
outcrop with the camels’ long necks stretched down, and
themselves frantically scooping handfuls of water into their
water-skins. My thirst soon had me on my hands and knees
beside them, with my parched lips in the saucers of the
rocky floor; and very sweet the collected rain-drops tasted,
after the water of our march, which had been sand-coloured
or pestiferously green to begin with, and had acquired the
taste of rank meat from its churning day after day in goat
skins ‘cured’ in crude Badawin fashion. There were times
when I elected to go thirsty, though the stuff was whole-
some enough, and I have never suffered any serious ill-
effects from drinking it, despite my never having taken
measures to doctor my water on any desert journey; there is
neither time nor opportunity for such refinements.

And now Tha’ailib, a Bait Kathiri, in a high, reedy voice
raised again the lyric that had cheered the morning’s march
while his companions showed they knew' and loved it bv
joining in, either one by one, in a duet, or together, making
some last phrase of a line into a chorus.

I translated it at the time to run:

[ l 5 2 ]

A SMOKING PARTY

‘Behold lightning in the far distance.

May its bounty fall in Umm al Hait,

Continuous and flowing rain

Flowing along between sand and stream course

Until it pass from Bu Warid onwards.

Thence shall a beautiful woman live and enjoy.

She, who standing up unveiled.

Her lover falleth at her feet

And is healed of the wounds of his heart -veins.'

Our march that day was cut short abruptly by the over-
mastering need to rejoice. These few spots of falling rain
were reason enough for my vanguard to halt and graze
their camels.

Sahail, a Rashidi, announced that he would smoke, and
a circle soon squatted about him, for a pipe in the desert
invites all to share. His hand disappeared down the open-
ing of his shirt front (Badu clothes have no pockets) towards
the region of his dagger belt, and drew forth his smoking
outfit - the typical tobacco pouch of cowhide, flapped over
and roughly sewn, carrying a leather thong with wooden
toggle. It was one of Sahail’s few possessions, but clearly
had a sentimental value of its own. As ever, it must be
lovingly unrolled with all eyes upon it. It had two par-
titions, one for tobacco, the other for pipe, flint and steel
striker, for matches in the desert if not quite unknown are
a rare luxury, and fires invariably lighted with a flint.
The pipe, also typical, was an empty *303 cartridge case,
the mouthpiece being the flat-rimmed end with the cap
removed. He proceeded to fill it with the green local leaf
of Oman or Dhufar, holding the end well up to avoid
spilling the precious stuff. A scrap of rag which probably

[ 153 ]

MARCHING ALONG THE SANDS

belonged to his last shirt was next ignited by a spark from
the flint, then placed on the ground, and a little dry camel
dung sprinkled over and blown upon to make it smoulder;
to this little fire a twig was added, till it charred red. The
glowing cinder was then placed over the mouth of his pipe,
as for a narghileh or hubble-bubble. It was filling the pipe
that took up the time so pleasantly; smoking was to be a
matter of a few crowded seconds. Sahail took six or eight
quick, deep inhalations, holding on to the last one until
his eyes rolled and his body swayed; meanwhile he had
passed the pipe to his neighbour, who similarly intoxicated
himself and so it went round the circle. This pipe was
smoked clarinet fashion, others of the same type I have
seen smoked flute-wise. The experience did not tempt me,
so I refrained from asking my almost speechless company
which was the better mode; nor could I find heart to mock
Sahail, whose pipe was one of his rare indulgences.

We camped in Umm al Hait at a point where Nukhdat
Waraiga, a distributary, takes off on a north-easterly bearing.
A twin Nukhdat Hishman lying to the north-west has a
more northerly course, both penetrating into these southern
sands for a distance of a day and a half’s march to embrace
a region called Umm Dharta.

The temperature fell to 4 7 0 F. that night, and we felt
the cold bitterly as we were sleeping in the open after a hot
day in the saddle, and on waking my hands were too
numbed with cold to do much note-taking. For the next
six nights the temperature fell about as low. My two
blankets made it endurable for me, wearing all my clothes
as well, but for my companions it meant wretchedness.
The Badawin sleep on the sands, which are very hot by
day and very cold by night; they have no other clothes

[ 154 ]

THE SIMPLE LIFE

than the cotton rags they wear by day; no bedding, which
would be a nuisance, anyhow, and be thought effeminate.
They collect a night’s store of brushwood for the camp-
fire, and curl up before it, naked but for a loin-cloth, for
their othfer garment, a shirt, is doffed and used as a sheet.
So also the women folk, though they have ‘tents of hair’
in the sands for a shelter, and a rug to sleep upon, wear
only their trousers by night, their outer garment - except
in case of the well-to-do - serving again as sheet. By day
nearly all go barefoot; but if the sands are very hot, both
sexes may use a roughly knitted sock. Excessive indul-
gence is, however, deprecated.

Our course for the next five days skirted this southern
fringe of the great sands, first west-north-west, then
gradually veering to west. The altitude remained fairly
constant at about 950 feet, though the fall of wadi courses
rjiade me think that higher ground lay to the west. The
afternoon march was unpleasant, as we were marching into
the sun’s eye. I had experienced this in former journeys,
when long marches into the sun turned my face first lobster
colour, then blistering raw; but now I had learnt the secret
of swathing my head in the full wraps of an Arab head-dress
and so saved all but my nose and lips. A more lasting dis-
advantage of a westerly course was that map-making
became a difficult task, as I was equipped only with chrono-
meters as a means of obtaining Greenwich Mean Time. I
could obtain latitudes with fair accuracy and thus check
daily my dead-reckoning by watch and compass when
marches were from south to north (and fortunately nearly
the whole of my journey lay in this direction); but longi-
tudes which check traverses east and west are untrust-
worthy when obtained with chronometers carried on camel

[ 155 ]

MARCHING ALONG THE SANDS

back, even with three chronometers checked one against
another and recorded before and after every march. A
wireless set would have given perfect accuracy, but I feared
to excite the suspicions of my company with such an
apparatus, whose bulk and weight would in any case have
been too much for my limited transport.

Three and a half hours through hummocky sand after
leaving Hishman brought us to the bordering plain, which
we crossed at a good pace, scarcely checked by groups of
small white sand-drifts that ran out at intervals of a mile
and a half or so. Beyond Umm al Ru’us these grew to be
transverse ridges so that we were slowed down, losing a
half-hour in crossing the first one, into a long corridor
flanked on our left hand by a single sand ridge at about a
mile’s distance, and on the right by the Great Sands.
Kharaiyim, as the skirting corridor is called, became the
characteristic feature of the next few days’ marches.
Hungry marches they were, for the only verdure was
sparse willowy abala or markh on the sides of the dunes.
These formed part of a system which lay athwart our path,
and ran south into the plain on the flank of a wadi, shrinking
-Aeadily to disappear, it was said, at no great distance.

Such were our halting-places. The camp in Nukhdat
Fasad - a distributarv of the Atina that gives its name to
the local sands - lay below three mighty dunes of Umm al
Jau, Umm al Laisa and Umm al Dhalua (mother of ribs).
So wretched was the grazing that we were obliged to split
up into three parties and distribute our animals over an area
of a mile or more. The party with which I found myself
consisted of Karab, ’Awamir and Bait Kathir rabias, and
they immediately clambered up into the tall spikv bushes
of markh, to snap off the youngest and most succulent

[ 156 ]

i

A SON OF THE SANDS

CARE FOR CAMELS

fodder for their particular mounts, so that my own beast
and the baggage animals came off second-best. This greed
for their camels aroused my interest because of its strange
conflict with the generosity of their personal relationships.
Where water or food was short, no one of them would think
of not sharing it equally with his companions, and if any one
was away, perhaps tending his camels, all would wait his
return, to eat together. But over camel fodder or camel
loads each Badu will take any unscrupulous advantage to
best his fellows in his camel’s interests; her welfare he seems
to set above every other consideration.

On the march no halt was cried for the midday prayer;
the five daily observances are reduced to three when men
are marching, midday and afternoon prayers being said
together, so also the sunset and evening prayers. This is an
orthodox expedient and does not reflect upon desert piety.
The assertion sometimes made by prejudiced townsmen,
that the Badawin neither pray nor fast, is not borne out
by my experience. My companions always prayed dili-
gently; ever mindful of the many perils through which
they have to go, they call upon God morning, noon and
night. Hunger and thirst are never far distant phantoms,
the hosts of Midian are ever prowling around ; the knowledge
of such present dangers has implanted in them, as in our
soldiers and sailors of a past generation, a combination of
resignation and of trust in the supernatural that is childlike
in its simplicity. Nor is simplicity its only virtue; it is a
rule of life that is pragmatically justified by the fact that it
forms a working basis for daily life in a harsh environment.
It is an attitude of mind which is closely paralleled in its
essentials by the accepted conventions of the West.

‘In the name of God the Compassionate, the Merciful,’

[ r 57 ]

MARCHING ALONG THE SANDS

was shouted as we moved off each morning. Suddenly at
my side after long silences a Badu would burst out like our
Puritan forefathers with, ‘Deliver me from mine enemies,
O God,’ ‘Deliver me, O Lord, from evil.’ The last note of
the Credo calling them to prayer at dawn would be greeted
with long-drawn-out supplications to Allah, as the shivering
wretches struggled to their feet to worship as their first
act of the day. Even a devout Christian travelling in their
company, his mind obsessed with worldly affairs, might
well learn something from their complete acceptance of
and trust in the Unseen but Ever Present God. As we sat
in circle the silence would be broken by a mumbled,
‘There is no God but God,’ while twice a hysterical Murri
exploded with, ‘Hide not your faith, O Muslimin!’ Yet
these outbursts I knew affected not their relations with me
at all, and I felt among these wild men a tolerance rare
amongst townsmen, whose smattering of the Qur’an gives
them an intolerable religious conceit, because they feel
themselves in exclusive possession of divine truth.

In contrast let me recall my encounter with Shaikh Salih
at the outset of this journey.

‘Bear witness!’ one of his men had begun, inviting me to
repeat the Islamic creed, in affirmation of my avowed belief
in God, and prayer, and fasting. So I took hold of my
beard - which I had let grow, as must any European who
would travel here; for by his beard a man must swear. I
said in Arabic after him, ‘God is great.’

‘There is no god but God,’ said he, and I repeated it.

‘And Muhummad is the Prophet of God,’ came his third
and last tenet.

‘Let me explain,’ said I. ‘He is your prophet, a great and
good man of your race of Arabs; but we are of another race,

[ 158 ]

A DISCUSSION ON RELIGION

also creatures of God, and we say and believe that Jesus is
our prophet.’

‘Jesus, son of whom ?’ they asked, for they are universally
illiterate, and have no acquaintance with the Qur’an, which
records that Jesus was the Spirit of God.

‘True,’ intervened Shaikh Salih to close the breach, ‘to
every people their prophet. But, God be praised, this man
is no unbeliever, but a confessor of Allah, the One and
Indivisible.’

My companions were at pains to discover whether we
burned our dead, whether our marriages were ‘knotted’
(sacred from free-love), whether we fasted and prayed. My
replies assured them and corrected another illusion which I
had met with on my earlier journeys and is, indeed, wide-
spread throughout the Muslim East; they pointed to the
skies, saying that unbelievers hide their faces from God.
This I suspect originated in the sun helmet of modern use , 1
which for obvious reasons comes well down over the eyes.
It is interesting to note too in this connection that prayer
according to Islamic practice necessitates the brow touching
the earth. Clearly a hat with a brim will not allow of this,
and therefore the outcry amongst conservative men of
religion in Persia, Iraq, Afghanistan and other Muslim
countries against the adoption by their armies of a head-dress
based on European models.

On my journeys I wore the Arab kerchief, and hidden
beneath it a shallow flying helmet with the brim removed, an
antiquity inscribed ‘Southey, Royal Air Force.’ My dress
and beard and food and talk must be as like those of my

1 The notion must be modern, for the sun helmet has not been in use
among Europeans in the East for more than a century; it is unknown in the
Americas, and not, I believe, worn in Australia or South Africa.

[ 1 59 ]

MARCHING ALONG THE SANDS

insular companions as possible to soften the differences
between us. For the same reason I did not wear glare
glasses or other obtrusive sun-protection, as the suspicions
of my desert friends to sun helmets showed that these might
have hindered the successful prosecution of my plans, nor
have I ever found them necessary.

Beyond Fasad the edging plain which yesterday had been
stoneless, to-day became stony and undulating. Gravelly
outcrops ( hazm ) some twenty feet high were followed by
others of putty colour, red-veined and highly glazed.
Through my telescope the bases of the distant sand dunes
here also appeared from a distance, similar solid rock. On
the surface I found oyster and other fossils, Ostrea , Lucina
and Rostallaria , all much weathered but with sufficient
ornament to date them geologically.

Mitan was another hungry camp, and our poor camels
standing silent, idle and hobbled were more than ready for
the onward move. Unlovely beast the camel may be, but
what patience in adversity she shows. All her delight is in
fodder, and if she find it in sufficiency you may put upon
her a heavy daily load, permit her to drink but once a week,
and manacle her at every halt, lest she stray.

Our morning start from Mitan was sluggish. We
straggled because of the cold and the hunger and the many
transverse sand ridges, and straggling camels mean a slow
caravan. An hour’s march brought us to a wide depression,
whose high western bank, Tof Mitan, marked the miserable
end of the wadi of that name, so mighty and fruitful at its
source in Shaghuwat, six days’ march south. Beyond it was
the hard steppe again and better going. Suddenly the
Arabs, who were always childishly anxious to draw atten-
tion to anything they thought would interest me, pointed

[160]

THE ROAD TO UBAR

to the ground. ‘Look, Sahib,’ they cried. ‘There is the
road to Ubar.’

‘Ubar ?’ I wondered.

‘It was a great city, our fathers have told us, that existed
of old; a city rich in treasure, with date gardens and a fort
of red silver. [Gold ?] It now lies buried beneath the
sands in the Ramlat Shu’ait, some few days to the north.’

Other Arabs on my previous journeys had told me of
Ubar, 1 * * the Atlantis of the sands, but none could say where
it lay. All thought of it had been banished from my mind
when my companions cried their news and pointed to the
well-worn tracks, about a hundred yards in cross section,
graven in the plain. They bore 32 5 0 , approximately lat.
1 8° 45' N., long. 52 0 30' E. on the verge of the sands.

Some days later Ma’yuf, the most intelligent Rashidi in
my party, volunteered the information that as a boy while

1 I am indebted to Mr. Philby for drawing my attention to the similarity
of Ubar with the form Wabar. None of the ‘serious’ Arab geographers

mention the place, but Yaqut gives a copious selection of local tradition, all
to the same purpose. The place is generally defined as lying in the sands
‘between Shihir and Sana 4 .’ It was a great city in a fertile oasis belonging
to the tribe of Ad, and its inhabitants were punished for their sins by being
turned into nasnas — z. kind of monkey with only half a body, one eye, one
arm, one leg and so on. Since then it has been inhabited b y jinn who en-
deavour to prevent approach to it and destroy those who reach it. The Mahra
camels are descended from the offspring of the camels of these jinn. In
some stories the people of Shihir are represented as hunting the nasnas
and even eating them. The South Arabian archaeologist Nashwan bin Sa’id
d/573 AH/1117 a.d., says only: ‘Wabar is the name of the land which
belonged to ’Ad in the; eastern parts of Yemen; to-day it is an untrodden
desert owing to the drying up of its water. There are to be found in it
great buildings which the wind has smothered in sand. It is said also that
it belonged to the people of Ar Ras.’

It is possibly more than a coincidence that Arisha (the land of the Ruler
Zenaiti of the desert folklore) is the Shahari equivalent of Ras (Arabic).

L [ l6l ]

MARCHING ALONG THE SANDS

grazing his father’s herds after rain, between Mitan and
Fasad (he had long ago forgotten the precise site, but
thought it within two days’ march of the sand border) he
had come upon a complete earthenware pot, with broken
potsherds of red and yellow, a part of a grindstone, two
coffee pestles ( ?) of black polished stone, and two large
white rounded blocks of stone, notched at the edge and both
alike, but each so big as to require two men to lift it (drums
of a column?): he had turned the sand over to look for
more, only to come upon black ashes. But these humble
things he had never associated with a mighty city; though
it had surprised him to find pottery in the sands, for no true
nomad of the desert carries earthenware pots on his camels,
but only vessels of woven reeds and an occasional iron one.

It would have been suicidal for me (even if I could have
carried my companions - an unlikely event in their present
nervous temper) to have turned aside into that arid pasture-
less waste: moreover our water was scarcely sufficient to carry
us along to the next water-hole. According to Badawin
report, the tracks are lost in the plain to the southwards.
This is probably due partly to wind erosion in the soft
sandy floors there, and partly to the fact that the ancient
road must have followed a pebbly wadi course, the natural
avenue of approach to the mountains, where there never
would have been tracks. That the sands are encroaching
southwards is in accordance with Arab tradition and
supported by the prevailing northerly winds all along these
southern borderlands which account for. the orientation of
the sand-drifts’ steep and gentle slopes. These deep tracks
in the steppe are explicable if climatic conditions have
changed within historic times. Just to the south lay the
ancient and famous frankincense groves, which were

[ 162 ]

ARABIA AND THE ICE AGE

probably connected by an overland route with Gerrha, the
old port of the Persian Gulf, or with Petra of the Nabataeans,
and Ubar may well have lain upon it. Can there be any
connection between the words Ophir and Ubar by the
change - a philological commonplace - off for b.

This tradition of ancient trade routes across what is now
an almost prohibitive barrier of sands should not be lightly
dismissed as impossible. South Arabia is held never to have
had an Ice Age, so that when the higher latitudes of the
northern hemisphere lay beneath an ice cap, Arabia was
enjoying a pluvial period, from which epoch date the great
gorges draining the coastal mountains, and the limestone
fossils washed (down to the edge of the sands. This very
different climate may have long persisted in modified form
and made possible a very early civilisation in this region.

Another interesting link in the chain of evidence has been
established by zoologists from the distribution of animal life
in South Arabia. The animals I collected in the Qara
Mountains have proved to be mainly African or Ethiopic
in affinity; they form an enclave there, for those I collected
to north, east and west have been found to be exclusively
Palaearctic. This enclave may well be a relic of the former
animal population of the entire southern part of the
peninsula when India, South Arabia and Africa had a
common climate and fauna. Later, desiccation may have
confined this primitive fauna to the Dhufar province, which
alone in Arabia has continued to enjoy a tropical rainfall and
flora, thanks to an adventitious south-west monsoon, while
the denuded spaces round about have come to be re-
populated by another group of animals from the north.

[ i6 3 ]

XIII: ACROSS THE MOUNTAINOUS
SANDS OF URUO-ADH-DHAHIYA

j r ^he bordering sands of Shu’ait now veered to south

of west and our course lay facing them. Here and

Jv there we seemed to have bid adieu to steppe only
once more to emerge upon it, now it was obscured by a
single high ridge, now reported to have receded to half a
day’s march to the south. The light colour that dis-
tinguished the southern aspect of the bordering fringe gave
place to red interior ridges that as we proceeded grew into
vast squat hills mounting up in billowing masses. Gentle
valleys and saddles marked our way except when we saw
scant herbage upon some slope, which we climbed, there to
stop and graze.

My attention was suddenly arrested by the phenomenon
of silver patches in the low troughs, looking from a distance
like sheets of ice or the salt residues of dried-up lakes. Such
ghadhera - they proved to be gypsum - appeared with
growing frequency throughout these dunes of Yibaila and
Yadila 1 and two days later in the sand mountains of Uruq-
adh-Dhahiya.

Hungry marches of nine and ten hours a day had told in
varying degree on our camels, so that we had been obliged
to make a redistribution of loads. The two sixty-pound
baskets of dates that had been a normal camel load were
now found excessive, each basket was halved and spread
among such camels as were in better fettle for the rugged
way before us. Their masters grumbled and I must needs

1 In the Rashidi dialect of the southern sands, as distinct from the northern
dialect of the Murra, J is pronounced Y, thus Jaub = Yaub, and Jiban =
Yiban. It is possible that the Y in Miniyor, Yadila and Yibaila is a J

[164]

TIRED CAMELS

requisition animals of unattached Badawin with us at added
expense. At last we agreed that the riding camels of my
party would carry a small load every second or third day,
though it meant much argument and the promise of reward,
and there were moments of apparent deadlock when I sorely
felt the absence of Shaikh Salih.

Rougher marching and tired camels stretched out the
column interminably at times, so that parts of it were lost
to sight in the folds and turnings of the sands. This was by
no means satisfactory in the face of possible ambush, for we
were daily growing more exhausted and less mobile, and
must be easy prey for a larger raiding party, operating
light and fresh from one of the three water-holes now within
a two days’ radius. As we neared each high hill one of my
Arabs whose turn that day it was to be free of a load, went
ahead, as our custom was, and clambered to the top, there
to spy out the country before us for sign of raiders, keeping
his head below the ridge to avoid detection, and there he
lay motionless but ever watchful while we came pounding
along to pass beneath. An hour later another would repeat
the performance, and so a look-out was kept during the long
day while we below scanned the ridges of distant hills for
any sign of similar activity on the part of an enemy.

The straggling meant a long-drawn-out arrival, and made
the daily choice of a halting-place increasingly difficult.
The spot must be determined according to what pasture
availed in this barren country, having regard to the time it
took for the last animals to make camp in daylight. The
procedure was for two or three leading men to scout ahead
some two hours before sunset and for us to follow to the
best of any pastures that were reported. An unusually
happy find on one occasion was signalled from afar by the

[165]

THE SANDS OF URUQ-ADH-DH AHIY A

scout waving his head-dress and shouting madly from the
highest ridge, so drunk with the sight of good grazing as to
forget the possibility of any enemies.

The camels dribbled in to be couched, off-loaded,
knee-hobbled and driven off to the nearest scrub. But in a
hungry camp the Badawin would scour the neighbouring
hills for armfuls of fodder with which to feed their couched
animals by hand, as a mother her child. After the camels
had been provided for, the party lined up for evening
prayer before they broke their own fast. Stacks of kindling
rose by the side of the four or five camp-fires against the cold
of the night. Round these the little self-chosen parties
habitually ranged themselves and it was my daily custom to
go and sit with one or other in turn.

This night I was interested in their manner of making
unleavened bread. Ma’yuf, who was the cook of our
particular party, squatted amid the circle of hungry and
expectant watchers, while he filled his cooking-pot with
flour, poured water upon it, punched and kneaded it into
an excessively soft and slimy dough. He divided it into
fistful shares, one for each of those present, rolling the
lumps into balls to prove their size. He balanced them in
his hands in the manner of scales, one eye upon the dough
and the other upon his neighbours. Then any ball that had
had an unfair start in life grew at the expense of another,
until all were equal and laid out at his feet. Next he took
up the first ball, sprinkled more water on it, flattened it
with his palm into a bun some four inches in diameter and
an inch thick, and laid it sagging across the glowing embers.
A scorching smell was the signal that it needed turning, and
so both sides came to be baked. Afterwards he made a hole
in the hot sands under the fire, tumbled it into this and

[166]

BREAD AND INDIGESTION

covered it again, and so with the rest of the batch. After a
term of burial deemed meet, the loaves were one by one
disinterred, and the caked sand partly brushed off by hand,
partly blown away with a deep breath, but most of it left
on to give the customary flavour. My companions favoured
this delicacy piping hot; a little sufficed me - it was very
heavy, perhaps two or three times the weight of English
bread, and though baked to a cinder on the outside was
doughy within. This may be one of its attractions, and yet
be the main source of the stomach trouble which they all
complained of. They were unused to solid food, so that
the rations I provided of dates every day and bread and
rice on alternate days were luxuries such as may have come
their way once a year, for the Feast of Ramadhan perhaps:
Ma’yuf, however, had a side-dish to-night: a hare pulled
out of its two-foot hole as we came along was simmering in
the pot. But the amateur cook of the sands is a stranger to
the use of butter, camel’s milk being so poor in fat content
that it will make neither butter nor cheese (though the
hump of a young camel on the rare occasions of slaughter
affords excellent fat), so that I found hare boiled in
brackish water unattractive fare and, with little virtue, left
my share to my companions.

Did I prefer the flesh of the gazelle? The question
led on to the tale of the gazelle and the hare - one of those
animal stories, beloved of Badawin, which are indeed
attractive as told in the simple rhythm of their vigorous
dialect, for Badu narrative speech tends to fall into the
measure of blank verse.

A gazelle came grazing to a juicy tuft of thamama, not
noticing that beneath it lay a hare asleep. The hare
startled, leapt up and fled, the gazelle jumping back at the

[ 1 67 ]

THE SANDS OF URUQ-A DH-DH AHI Y A

same time, even more frightened, so that it forgot itself.
But now, coming to its senses, and feeling annoyed, it
shouted in mock heroics after the hare:

i Hubi\ whose flesh is of small account.

Whose skin gives no pleasure
O joy -giver but to children,

O vexer of neighbours!’

(i.e. there is so little meat on you that it will
not suffice the guest).

And the hare, turning, sat up on its hindquarters and
shouted back to the gazelle:

‘Hu 6 i\ O father of forgetfulness,

O rimmed horned one.

If thou seest the wadi green

Thou becomest partner of it with the jinns!’

(i.e. the sight of pastures makes you mad).

And they parted ways.

The camp-fires would have been replenished if firewood
had been available, for the poor Badawin were numbed
with cold and the night was cruel. As the fires flickered
out beneath them, they one by one lay down with their
rifles, only the night watch alert against surprise by an
enemy, while I went off to do my ‘star taking.’

22nd December had been a long, uneventful day,
marching through the sands of Yadila, and whenever we had
to turn south in avoiding obstacles, the full blaze of the sun
burnt my face.

We were floundering through heavy dunes when the
silence was suddenly broken by a loud droning on a musical

C 168]

THE BELLOWING OF THE SANDS

note. I was startled for the moment, not knowing the
cause.

‘Hanaina! Hanaina!’ 1 shouted my companions. ‘Listen to
that cliff bellowing, Sahib!’ and a man at my side pointed
to a sand cliff, a hundred feet or so high, and perhaps a
hundred yards or more away on our right hand. I was too
much absorbed to reply. The hour was 4.15 p.m., and a
slight north wind blew from the rear of the cliff.

Before this, in similar winds, we had passed many such
cliffs, but they had emitted no sound, only the light surface
sand being carried up the gentle windward slope to spill like
smoke over its top. The leeward face of the cliff was a fairly
steep slanting wall and I looked in vain for a more funnel-
shaped sand gorge that by some rushing wind action might
account for so great a volume of noise. The usual term,
‘singing sands,’ seems to me hardly appropriate to describe a
sound indistinguishable from the siren 2 of a moderate-sized
steamship. The noise continued for about two minutes and,
like a ship’s fog-signal, ended as abruptly as it had begun.

A suggested explanation of the phenomenon, that the
sand had been heated all day and the fall of temperature in
the afternoon set the whole face sliding, came to my notice
too late for investigation: the volume and nature of the
noise did not suggest it, nor did it occur to me to ask my
companions at what other times of the day it happens,
though, from the implication of a remark made later to
account for a night alarm, ‘singing sands’ after dark would
not in their minds appear to be abnormal.

1 Hanaina— bellowing. The two tribes of the sands use different terms
for singing sands. The Rashid call it Al Da-mam , and the Murra Al Hiyal.

2 T he modern use of this word is equally unfair to the enchanting voices
of the Sirens of the Odyssey.

[169]

THE SANDS OF URUQ-ADH-DHAHIY A

There are other varieties of sand noises. The sands of
Umm Dharta - ‘Mother of Wind’ - (the name may be
generic) to the northward of Umm al Hait, I am told, have
a springiness which causes wheezing when camels walk
upon them. And I myself was to be startled a month later
in the sands of Suwahib on hearing a sharp ‘phut’ under
my camel’s feet like the falling of a spent bullet. It was
instantaneous, and I did not hear it again. A Murri riding
at my side who was familiar with the phenomenon, though
it was rare, could only suggest some dark activity in the
uppermost of the seven underworlds; but this has no direct
connection with the loud and continuous bellowing which
happens, according to the Arabs of the sands, only in heavy
dune country.

And now, after two long slow days in Shu’ait, we were
to bid adieu to the fair and gentle, if hungry, shivering
camps between steppe and sand. On the 24th December we
turned north-west and struck into the great dune-country,
whose near edge stretched away from us to the west-south-
west. Before us rose red mountains of sand.

The going at once became more difficult, and recalled
to me my struggles a year before in the sands of Mugshin,
nearly two hundred miles to the east-north-east, which I
had tried to get through with mountain-bred camels, and
after two abortive days had been forced to beat a retreat.

Very impressive is a great dune region at first sight - a
vast ocean of billowing sands, here tilted into sudden
frowning heights, and there falling to gentle valleys merci-
ful for camels, though without a scrap of verdure in view.
Dunes of all sizes, unsymmetrical in relation to one another,
but with the exquisite roundness of a girl’s breasts, rise tier
upon tier like a mighty mountain system. No contrasting

[170]

A FALSE ALARM

shades are afforded by the sun’s almost vertical rays in this
tropical latitude, and the resulting impressions are soft
planes and an exquisite purity of colour. So smooth from a
distance, the sands are in reality lined with faint coruscations
like tiny wavelets on the shore, and what from afar is a sheet
of pure red colour, when approached sparkles with glints of
green and gold. A breeze blowing from the north sweeps
up gentle slopes to spill a filmy wisp of sand over the brink
and thus builds up a flat rim along the upper leeward edges.
The effect from near at hand is that of the Hellenic helmet
of Flaxman’s Heroes, but in the far distance the winding
ridges of the dunes look like the walls of some fair city built
upon a hill.

The Vigil of Christmas was a night of excitement. We had
arrived late in camp, camels had been hobbled as usual and
driven off to the scant bushes, from behind some of which
came the brisk noises of merry camp-fire parties. There
came a sudden scream. To me it sounded like the hooting
of an owl or the whining cry of an animal; but it spread
instant alarm. My camp was at once in a ferment.

l Gom! Gom!’ ‘Raiders! raiders!’ shouted the excitable
Badawin, leaping to their feet, their rifles at the ready; my
servant came running across to me with my Winchester and
bandolier. Our rabias, of the ’Awamir and Karab tribes,
rushed out shouting: ‘We are alert! We are alert! I am
So-and-so 1 of such a tribe. These are my party and are
under my protection.’ The object of this was to save us

1 abu fulan. In Arabia a man will often call himself and be known as
‘the father of a son’s name,’ a commentary on the honour in which parent-
hood of males is held. Indeed, Saiyid Taimur bin Faisal, the Sultan of
Muscat, almost invariably signed himself in private correspondence, ‘Abu
Sa’id,’ his son, Saiyid Sa’id, being the heir apparent.

[ 171 ]

THE SANDS OF URUQ-ADH-DHAHI Y A

from raiders of their own factions, if these they were. It is
said that the cry is never abused.

Others ran out on all sides, though in the dark night they
were not in touch with one another, and it seerped to me
that friend might easily be taken for foe.

An hour elapsed and there was no repetition of the sound
and, indeed, no sound at all, though my party were by no
means reassured and the stalwarts who were out remained
out to keep night watches.

I was thoroughly tired and hence very ready to believe
that the alarm had been raised by a wild beast and not an
enemy, so my vigil fell short of that of my companions. My
assumption was correct. Next morning the tracks of a wolf
were traced near by; its whoop had, it seemed, been
suspiciously like the ’ awan , the war cry of raiders making
the attack.

The technique of desert raiding should be studied by all
travellers. An approaching party may be friend, but is
always assumed to be foe. Had the wolf cry betokened what
we feared, my party would have responded with a fusillade
in the air in that direction - a procedure calculated to damp
the ardour of oncomers of whatever disposition. All rabias
present would have shouted their names and tribes as my
Karabis had done. The shout would have been recognised,
for almost every tribe has some vocal peculiarities. Some
friend would have shouted back his name and if reassured,
he and the rabia of my party would have advanced from
opposite sides and the approaching party have been led in.

If two parties meet by day, rabias on both sides will ride
forward to within a few hundred yards to identify and be
identified, while both main bodies halt apprehensively.
The discovery of an enemy will send the rabia fleeing back

[172]

THE LAWS OF DESERT WAR

to his companions, who will open fire at long range: or in
the case of a sudden appearance of a supposed enemy, men
will couch their camels and run out in front of them in
extended order and fire upon the oncomers. The object in
both cases is to frighten away the other party.

The party numerically stronger, better mounted and
better armed must prevail, and flight is seldom practicable
for the weak. If the raiding party enjoy only a slight
advantage a war of attrition will ensue until one or other has
no more ammunition, for by desert canons none should
submit while he has a round left: but if the attacking party
are in preponderant strength there will be no dallying; they
will sweep down upon their victims.

Surrender to the first oncomer is the only hope for an
individual. l sellemniV is the desert equivalent of the
schoolboy cry of pax, and as a token of submission the rifle
is held above the head, or thrown to one side. l Ji wijhi ,’ ‘In
my face,’ is the victor’s reply if he wishes to show mercy.

If the would - be prisoner has reason to expect good
terms he may say ‘ sellemnt - with my ‘rifle,’ 1 or ‘dagger,’ or
‘camel’; but this is a risk seldom taken; probably his
adversary is covering him with a rifle, and the best he can
hope for is to be spared to return empty-handed to his kith
and kin. But if one of the attackers has been killed, the law
of the blood-feud must operate and his life be forfeit. So
also if the answer ‘by my face’ is not returned, he may
expect no mercy. Thus raiding parties are of two kinds,
that whose tribe and yours have no blood-feud, that where
a blood -feud exists. Both want your camels and arms, the

1 I found the word bunduq (pi. banddiq) in common use in the sands for
‘rifle.’ This confirms Yule’s note in Hobson-Jobson that the Hindustani
derives through the Arabic.

[ 173 1

THE SANDS OF URUQ-ADH-DHAHIYA

second your life as well. ‘We would show our “face” to
one section of the Sa’ar but not to the other - God is the
All-knowing’ - Khuwaitim had said to me as we rode along.

It was Christmas morning as we left behind us the
‘alarm’ camp (said to lie due north of Wadi Urba) and set
out across what was to prove the loftiest and vastest of all
the sands met with on my journey - Uruq-adh-Dhahiya.
For the first four hours came a succession of mountains,
cliffs and intervening gorges of sand. Our camels, wretched
beasts, climbed arduously to knife-edge summits and
slithered knee-deep down precipitous slopes. Here and
there we turned back for very fear and tried a better way,
and all dismounted to scrabble with our hands in the soft
slopes to make a path for the camels to climb.

As we walked the soft sand came well over our ankles at
each step; shoes would have been out of the question; nor
was riding any comfort for the body must be bent, now
back over the camel’s quarters, now forward on the neck,
at acute angles. Alarming too it was to look down a steep
slope of a hundred feet and more where we must pass, yet
our ungainly brutes, resolute and surefooted, braved a
diagonal course across its face, their great pads sinking up to
the shanks with every step, and throwing up clouds of sand
as they were withdrawn.

No horse could possibly negotiate these southern sands,
even if it could be brought thus far through the waterless
wastes of the borderlands, and for a motor car they would
be quite impassable.

Our toil had its compensations. There were moments
when we came suddenly upon a picture of sublime grandeur,
an immense and noble plastic architecture, an exquisite
purity of colour, old rose-red, under the cloudless sky and

[ r 74 ]

A GYPSUM PATCH IN THE SOUTHERN SANDS

WATERING AT KHOR DHAHIYA

KHOR DHAHIYA

brilliant light. A winter’s day in Switzerland affords a
comparison - the feel of the yielding substance underfoot
and a glorious exhilaration in the air.

At last, after passing a dune system called Thumb bin
Imani, which was said to mark the half-way point between
the sweet water of Khor Dhahiya and the brackish water-
hole of Bin Hamuda lying to the north-east, the going
became easier, for we changed course and steered north for
long stretches along the sand valleys that here have a north-
easterly axis, between the mighty dunes.

Just before sunset a halt was cried.

‘Khor Dhahiya!’ shouted my party as we couched our
camels. I ran to the brow of the hill before me and,
concealing myself, looked down into a mighty sand valley
running north-east and south-west, and here perhaps a
mile wide. In its bed, three hundred feet below, a green
patch marked our objective, the famous water-hole, where
Shaikh Salih was to have met me with a fresh relay of
camels on the fourth day of the moon. To-day was the
fifth, so that I was a day late, but signs of Salih or his party
there were none - only silent naked spaces.

For prudence’ sake we halted short for the evening, in
scanty pastures, while two of our number took their water-
skins and at once trudged off by a wide detour down into
the valley to spy out the land. I watched with my telescope
their microscopic figures at the hole, and wondered whether
an enemy lay lurking near. But after a careful search of the
whole area they turned back unmolested, while I, waiting
expectant for their news, watched their foreshortened
figures growing as they climbed the sands until the sun
went down and darkness came over the scene. The tidings
were at once good and bad news. Neither friend nor foe

[ I 75 3

THE SANDS OF URUQ-ADH-DHAHIYA

had recently watered there, tracks made by themselves two
moons ago still stood; Mubarak, Shaikh Salih’s companion,
had visited the water-hole but yesterday, God was the
Knower!, and they would show me his footmarks on the
morrow.

My Christmas dinner consisted of desiccated soup, made
with the water of Dhahiya, which thus needed no salt or
pepper, and one of the few tins of baked beans I carried for
special occasions - festive fare after a strenuous nine hours’
march without solid food. A midday meal was an indul-
gence I never allowed myself. It would have been quite out
of the question to cry a long halt at noon - for the rule of
life in the heart of an arid desert demands rapid marching
from pasture to pasture. Instead I carried a flask of camel’s
milk and a daily ration of malted milk tablets, and short
stops for our camels to graze or for the Badawin to pray
afforded me the opportunity to slake my thirst.

In the desert, halts are always and rightly called in the
camels’ interests. The poor beasts, which the traveller
starts by despising and learns to admire greatly, are the
means by which he moves forward to success or away to
safety. In remote waste places if the camel die, its master
dies. The invariable consideration my companions showed
for their beasts was noteworthy. Often I found myself the
only member of my party in the saddle, while the others
walked for long hours to spare their mounts, and ran hither
and thither to collect occasional juicy tufts of camel -thorn
with w'hich to feed them as we passed along.

Our camels were tired out. Their humps, large and full
at the outset, told a story. The hump is the barometer of
the camel’s condition, and ours had all fallen miserably
away. This was only to be expected after an eight days’

[176]

EXHAUSTED CAMELS

journey under loads through these barren and waterless
southern borderlands.

On the following morning we were early astir. The
Badawin led their camels down as best they could, chanting
merrily a promise of the water that the thirsty brutes so
sorely needed, in measures the animals most surely under-
stood. I went on foot, avoiding their monstrous tracks in
the soft slipping slopes, avoiding, too, the sight of camels
pushed to acrobatics, carrying precious chronometers on
their backs. When I reached the bottom, watering had
already begun, to the sound of brisk happy noises that are
heard at no other time. The hole, scarcely more than
a yard in diameter, was rimmed with a heap of new yellow
mud, the debris thrown out by a Badu who at the com-
mencement of operations had descended as always to clean
it out. As I looked down into it I saw another Arab standing
below, up to his knees in water, replenishing the leathern
water - buckets that were lowered to him. Near by a
Karabi held bucket after bucket to the lips of his eager
animal, talking to her the while, until a raised head and fat
belly denoted she had had enough, when he playfully
dashed the water that remained over her neck or threw the
bucket into the air to catch it as it fell . 1

But where was Shaikh Salih and my expected camels?
I spent an anxious day wondering, though Kilthut, the
Shaikh’s son, was ready with explanations. Khor Dhahiya
was a notoriously unhealthy spot, he said, being known and
used by the Sa’ar and other raiders from the Hadhramaut,
and there were here no pastures, as I could see for myself.

It was late afternoon before we left the water-hole.

1 I have heard that the local gypsum is used to build a water-trough in
summer round these water-holes.

M [177]

THE SANDS OF URUQ- A D H- D H A H I Y A

Sunset found us on a high sandy flat, thick with zahar and
abala , fat pastures indeed, and even better ones were
reported ahead. There Shaikh Salih would surely be. And
so an early morning start. The party scanned the im-
mediate sands for signs of his tracks, and soon there arose
the now familiar explosive thanks to Allah. I shared their
heartfelt joy, for among the footmarks that had been
identified were those of Hamad bin Hadi, a son of the
Murra whom Salih had mentioned as one sufficient for my
purposes, could he be persuaded to turn guide and rabia.
There were marks of many more camels, twenty others -
encouraging discovery - for our animals, exhausted after
their forced marches to Dhufar and back, could not have
moved on under loads for three more days without a
rest.

‘Look, Sahib! That is So-and-so,’ my men said, pointing
to a foot impression that looked like every other footprint to
me. ‘That is his camel; he was leading her. She is gone with
calf. See how deep are her tracks.’ I was astonished at the
accuracy of my party’s description of those that were ahead
of us, the amazing facility with which they read the
evidence of the tracks we followed. In comparison the
finger-print methods of the West seem a slow, laborious,
technical process.

The sands are a public diary, that even he who runs may
read, for all living creatures go unshod. Each of my
companions not only knew at a glance the footmarks of
every camel and man of my caravan, but claimed to know
those of his absent tribe, and not a few of his enemies. No
bird may alight, no wild beast or insect pass but needs must
leave its history in the sands, and the record lasts until a
rising wind bears a fine sand along to obliterate it. Snakes,

[W8]

MARCHING IN THE MIGHTY URUQ-ADH-DHAHIYA

THE LORE OF THE TRACKER

hare, a sand fox, and numerous lizards owed their undoing
to such tell-tale marks; their hiding-holes were in vain.

And now the sands with the crisp imprints of identified
friends became our guide, and led us at right angles to our
old course on a north-easterly bearing through rugged
dune country, the aneroid steadily falling. As we breasted
the tops of sandhills I scanned with eagerness each new
horizon for Salih’s camp. Suddenly there was merry chatter
as black specks ahead were detected and pointed out to me
as the object of our quest. A doubly welcome sight! for
now our combined strength would relieve the tension of the
recent anxious marches, and means become available, I
hoped, for the onward march into the sands.

[ 179 ]

XIV: A GEOGRAPHICAL NOTE ON
RUB’ AL KHALI

A t the cost of breaking into the narrative for a few
pages, it may be convenient here, where my route
leaves the perimeter of the sands, to refer the reader
to my map and consider briefly the shape of these sands and
the configuration of Rub’ al Khali.

The entire area of South-east Arabia, bounded by long.48 °
00 north of the 20th parallel, and by long. 46° 00 south of
it, is, except for a narrow coastal belt, marked on our maps
Rub’ al Khali, Arabic words that may be translated the
Empty Quarter. The meaning is sufficiently literal to have
an application, and the term is one that is familiar to literate
Arabs elsewhere who have learned geography from text-
books, but the tribes who live in the Rub’ al Khali neither
use the term nor understand it in its geographical sense.

Rub’ al Khali consists of desert, the eastern and southern
portions of which to the extent of nearly a third of the total
area are steppe lands; the rest an ocean of sands stretching
away to the north and west. The southern steppe is known
as Nejd, the eastern steppe as Sih in the north, Jaddat
Harasis in the south; the sandy region is known as Ar Rami
or Ar Rimal. Tribes are within large limits localised and
for them particular areas both in sands and steppe have
individual names. A steppe region sometimes derives its
name from that of the tribe that habitually occupies it, but
more usually from the name of a wadi. 1

1 The word wadi , i.e. ‘valley,’ or here a ‘dry water-course,’ is used by
these Badawin not so much in a topographical sense but as a term for
pastures. Al IVadi al kabir (there is a Moorish relic in the Spanish
Guadalquivir), meaning the big wadi, often stands in the colloquial tongue
for good pastures, and not necessarily for a huge valley, or stream.

[ISO]

THE SOUTHERN AND EASTERN EDGES

The southern edge of the sands which in the course of
my last two journeys I skirted for nearly two hundred miles,
I have already shown to stretch almost parallel with the
south coast of Arabia from Mugshin to north of the
Hadhramaut, and to be falling from south to north and from
west to east.

The eastern edge of the sands runs north-north-east from
Mugshin, a four days’ march to Qarn as Sahama, thence it
turns due north and approximately follows long. 55 0 40',
passing thus within a day to the westward of Ibri, skirts the
west side of Jabal Hafit and extends thence onward as a
spur to bisect peninsular Oman.

Within the sand borders, the mountainous gypsum
system of Uruq-adh-Dhahiya is said to form a mighty
horseshoe range whose base rests on the central south
borderlands in the regions of Umm Gharib, Kharkhir,
Uruq-adh-Dhahiya, Miniyur and Raga’at; its western arm
approximately follows long. 49 0 as far as lat. 20° N.,
embracing the regions Ga’amiyat, Huwaiya and Shu-
waikila: its eastern arm follows long. 53 0 E. approximately
as far north as lat. 22 0 30' N. embracing Uruq Mijora,
Tamaisha, Shaiba and Maraikha.

Within this horseshoe will be found only the tribes who
are essentially dwellers in the great sands, t.e. (i) the Murra
approaching from the north-west; (ii) the Rashid and Bait
Imani sections of A 1 Kathir approaching from the central
south; (iii) the ’Awamir and Manasir (to a more limited
extent) approaching from the north-east.

Outside the horseshoe and between it and the steppe are
the border sands used seasonally by particular sections of
the steppe tribes. In the east these tribes are Albu Shamis,
Daru’, Harasis and Afar: in the south Bait Kathir, Manahil,

[181]

A GEOGRAPHICAL NOTE

’Awamir (southern elements) Sa’ar and Karab, but they
severally keep within a safe distance of their own water-
holes. 1

Altitude readings recorded along my four routes covering
altogether some two thousand miles in the north, the south-
east, the south centre and the centre of Rub’ al Khali,
together with the recorded direction of wadi beds (either
observed or ascertained from Arab information) furnish the
means of establishing the slope of this part of the continent
of Arabia.

The general configuration of Arabia, which rises abruptly
on the west side in the Red Sea and Dead Sea rift escarp-
ments to decline gently eastwards to the plains of Iraq
and the waters of the Persian Gulf, does not extend through-
out the Rub’ al Khali. Here the land mass rises abruptly
on three sides: on the north-east, the Hajar range of Oman;
in the central south, the Dhufar system; in the south-west,
the mountains of Hadhramaut and Najran. Low levels
mark the Persian Gulf and Arabian Sea littorals on the
south-east side of the desert. That the sands are sloping
down to the Persian Gulf on three sides is thus apparent: so
also must there be a depression in the central south-east.

The altitudes of the eastern edge of the sands already
delineated are approximately as follows: in the northern
spur which I crossed in 1926 the reading was 1200 feet.
To the westward of Jabal Hafit it is about 1000 feet. Sir
Percy Cox recorded Ibri as 1 600 feet, so that the edge of
the sands in that latitude, bearing in mind the south-westerly
fall of its wadi Al ’Ain, must be considerably lower. The
height of the sands at Mugshin was about 400 feet. Hence

HThere is an isolated island of sand to the eastwards in the Ja’alan triangle,
which is the habitat of the Yal Wahiba tribe.

[ * 82 ]

DEPRESSIONS IN THE SANDS

it may be deduced that the eastern edge of the sands is
falling from north to south.

East of this long eastern edge of Ar Rimal is a steppe
which rises slowly north-eastwards to the great Hajar
backbone of Oman, whence the drainage wadis A 1 ’Ain,
A 1 ’Aswad, A 1 ’Amairi and Musallim follow almost parallel
courses to the south-west to lose themselves in the eastern
borders of the sands. To the south-east of Mugshin is
another steppe having no discernible slope but said to be
bounded on its north-east side by the isolated ridge of
Jabal Hugf. On its south-eastern side the wadis Qadan
(Ghudun ?), Raunib and Haitam (I crossed the mouths at
sea-level in 1928) fall south-eastwards into Sauqira Bay.

On its south-western side, Jaddat Harasis receives the
system of Wadi ’Ara, the inland drainage of the northern
extension of Jabal Samhan. Where I crossed it in its sources
on an earlier journey the wadi heads were running north-
east, and aneroid readings varied between 1100 feet east
and 1400 feet west. To the eastward of Jabal Hugf the
only considerable wadis, Halfain and Andam, fall away
from the eastern Hajar of Oman and run due south, in part
to drain into the Gulf of Masira.

There is thus an area of depression at the south-eastern
extremity of the great sands forming a corridor running
south-east and extending from the coast of Sauqira Bay
through Jaddat Harasis and thence on into the sands,
probably in long. 54 0 E. to 55 0 E., lat. 20° N. to 22 0 N.
Within it water comes to the surface at Mugshin and
Hamaidan. North of this corridor the general slope is
upwards towards the north and east, south of the corridor
it rises to the south and west.

An item of much geographical interest is the presence of

[183]

A GEOGRAPHICAL NOTE

desert quicksands on the northern side of the corridor,
where it meets Ar Rimal. The extent of Umm as Samim,
as the area is called, is said to be a two days’ march in every
direction. In appearance a sheet of salt plain, it gives no
indication to the unwary traveller of its treacherous bogs.
Many have perished here and only certain Daru’ Badawin
who come to collect salt on its borders are said to brave its
secret passages, raiders, as might be expected, giving it a
wide berth.

Von Wrede, the Bavarian soldier of fortune, who in 1 843
penetrated the Hadhramaut in Muslim disguise, records a
similar phenomenon, its place-name Bahr as Safi. He
marched towards one of the white patches armed with a
plumb-line of six fathoms. ‘With the greatest caution I
approached the border to examine the sand, which I found
almost an impalpable powder, and I threw the plumb-line
as far as possible; it sank instantly, the velocity diminish-
ing, and in five minutes the end of the cord had disappeared
in the all-devouring tomb.’

While I do not wish to impugn Von Wrede’s veracity
I should record that most of the companions of my journeys
had raided in the sands to the north of the Hadhramaut, in
fact the Karab rabias hailed from there, but none knew of
Bahr as Safi, and all averred that the quicksands described
exist to-day only in Umm as Samim, lying between sand
and steppe to the north and east of Mugshin and south and
west of ’Ibri. Many Omani Badawin and others told me
of the Umm as Samim quicksands.

[184]

XV: THROUGH THE SANDS OF DAKAKA:
THE SECOND RELAY OF CAMELS

i Haiya bi wusulkum , sahib !

Markaba wa haiya bikum!’

Y" || 'Nj if is was the desert greeting of Shaikh Salih as I
eagerly rode up some distance ahead of my party

Jl to the new camp, and couching Gerainha slipped
off her back for the last time to grasp Salih’s out-
stretched hand. With him was a man I recognised - fat
old Muhammad who had been with me on my last year’s
expedition. But only these two; the rest of the party of
strange Badawin looked on from their sandy eminence a
little way off without bothering to come forward to meet
me, and I scented a coolness in the atmosphere which
seemed to augur ill for my plans. Was this to be the limit
of my journey ? Was I not to be allowed to move forward ?

But as my party straggled in the cold faces took on a
kindlier expression, and men sprang up to meet their
returning kindred and salute them in the manner of Badu
meeting Badu. This nose kiss 1 - it is also the lovers’ kiss -
in its attenuated form before me consisted of three brushing
nose to nose movements, left to right, right to left, centre
press, while each placed his right hand over the other’s left
shoulder.

1 Between desert men the nose kiss takes the place of hand-shaking.
With Bait Kathir under the mountains it is observed after a five or six
days’ separation, but seldom oftenerj here in the sands Badawin salute each
other thus if separated for only one day.

The Mahra in the steppe, though a Badawin tribe, are peculiar in using
amongst themselves not the nose kiss but a triple cheek kiss, right, left,
right.

[I8 5 ]

THE SANDS OF DAKAKA

A circle of squatting Arabs was soon formed and I
ordered three bowls of dates to be set in the midst and the
coffee cup to go round. The new Badawin eyed me
silently, giving me a feeling that I was being weighed in
the balance as they spoke in low tones to right and left with
members of my old party. The last-named disdained the
coffee and dates as these went round the first time - unusual
for those who had been so insistent iov juwala on the march -
and it was amusing to me to find in the Rub’ al Khali an
application of the time-honoured principle of ‘family-hold-
back.’ The delicacies received the nominal patronage usual
on such formal occasions and there was plenty left when it
came to my party’s turn to stick fingers into the common
dish.

''Marhaba •wa ehlen y a haiyakum /’

Thus old Saif, the rightful shaikh of the tribe by blood 1
but an effete branch (and consequently superseded by the
Kilut family, not of shaikhly lineage on the male side but
resolute, brave and effective) as he took off his ammunition
belt and threw it into the circle. This was an invitation to
my party whose visit to the coast and hunting activities on
the march had brought them a few rounds of ammunition
apiece, to spare of their bounty for the titular chief. Now
one, now another threw a round into the pool, as it were,
and when all had done Saif was ten rounds to the good.

Shaikh Salih had not failed me. He came along bringing
a man of consequence for introduction, walking in Badawin
fashion hand-in-hand with him.

‘This is a shaikh, Sahib! shaikh of the Murra’ (it is well

1 If Bait Imani is excluded from Ar Rashid (and they are now regarded
as having achieved autonomy), the tribe consists of two sections, Mat’ariba
and Sa’adna, the latter the shaikhly house of which Saif was the head.

[t86]

HAMAD BIN HADI

to promote your friends thus in the desert, though in point
of fact the description was not very wide of the mark ). 1
‘No better guide in all the sands than Hamad bin Hadi, no
doughtier fighter, no more skilful hunter; and loyal, I
call God to witness, for did not my brother take his daughter
to wife; none knows the pastures and the water -holes like
Hamad; he knows a way across the sands and agrees to be
our rabia .’

Hamad was a middle-sized man of dark complexion with
shifty black eyes, a hawk-like Armenoid face thickly
bearded and a curious quick voice which bespoke him a
man of greater vigour than Salih, but on first impression
not so inspiring of trust. The dweller of the desert, like a
child or an animal requires a very slow and careful approach ,
and Hamad, who had never before seen a man of my colour
or heard an accented voice, would not improbably be
suspicious; so I decided that leisureliness in coming to the
point was the right policy. The first meeting was therefore
an occasion only for the coffee cup and amiable conversation
about hunting; likewise the second, which was profitably
reinforced with the present of a headdress for his son.

‘What do you make of Hamad?’ said Salih to me the
next day.

‘The very man.’

‘Didn’t I tell you so? But he wants a lot. Sahib!’ The
greed of the Badu is proverbial, but I had made a sworn
pact with Salih before leaving the coast, and now he was to
observe the conditions scrupulously by persuading Hamad
to accept the terms we mutually considered fair.

The new party, now reduced in numbers, had become

1 Hamad was the headman of the Hathalain, a subsection of A1 Ghuferan,
one of the divisions of A1 Murra.

[l8 7 ]

THE SANDS OF DAKAKA

more friendly to me. The antipathy I thought I had
detected in our first meeting was but their native sullenness:
in truth they had come here with Shaikh Salih expressly
for my purposes. The plan was that they would bear me
westwards through these sands of Dakaka to the water-hole
of Shanna. There I must dismiss them and engage a third
and still further reduced party of men and camels, which
Shaikh Salih would go ahead to select and bring to the
rendezvous after ten days if God willed, and neither of us
met an enemy.

These central southern sands of Dakaka were indeed the
key to the problem of my journey, for they had received
the rains of last year and were therefore blessed with
exceptional pastures so that the herds had concentrated
here. This had made it possible for a large party laden with
full milk-skins to come to the coast for me; here I could find
an escort to take me on, and hence a party would avail at the
most advanced point towards the inmost sands for a jump
off into the unknown. Had Dakaka itself been hungry,
had last year’s rains fallen not here but to the north-east,
the camel concentrations would have been too far removed
for the system of relays by wfiich alone I could hope to
cross the deserts in quick stages carrying scientific instru-
ments.

Pay-day was a day of excitement, for a hired Badu is the
most difficult person to satisfy on dismissal. His contracted
pay was fifty dollars for himself and camel and forty dollars
for a pack animal; of this he had drawn half at Dhufar, in
advance; the other half he was getting that day, so that
my camp table glittered with Maria Theresa dollars (each
worth about is. 4d.), the only coin the sands know, and that
but infrequently. The chink of silver, a sound

[ 1 88 ]

rare in

SETTLING DAY IN THE DESERT

Dakaka, was a necessary accompaniment to setting up piles
of twenties and twenty-fives, which would facilitate pay-
ment, for then all I had to do was to put so many piles into
each man’s hand as he came along. But I was reckoning
without my host. Each laboriously counted and recounted
his share and a horrid infection spread amongst them, of
each looking up and declaring he was one or two short. A
companion would take the money out of his hand and
count it back in fives, generally to the man’s ultimate
satisfaction. My method of counting 6, 7, 8, etc., or even
omitting to count at all, appeared to puzzle them. Their
practice was to count 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and then begin at 1
again - an object lesson in the human appeal of the decimal
system. At the end of an hour my table was bare, every
name on the pay-roll of my escort had been ticked off; two
hours later I was congratulating myself that on the whole
pay-day had passed satisfactorily, when suddenly there was
much shouting; a serious row started and it looked as though
the old party, with whom my relations had been so cordial,
were going to spoil this record by a free fight on the day of
parting. It seemed they had incurred mutual debt obliga-
tions at Dhufar and the liquidation of these demanded a
standard of mental arithmetic and of patience in discussion
not vouchsafed to them; hence the heated words and the
possibility of the dagger as an honourable arbiter. Peace
only came when Shaikh Salih gathered up all the payments
that I had made into a large common heap on his head-dress
laid out on the sands, for a complete redistribution by
himself. Thus I had to witness all my pretty work of the
morning brought to naught.

Peace prevailed at last - but not contentment. For they
must have rations, they said, how else were they to get home

[ i 8 9 ]

THE SANDS OF DAKAKA

with their exhausted animals not in milk ? They would die
on the way. Their demands seemed to me to be three times
in excess of their legitimate needs and to be inspired by the
approach of Ramadhan, when the fast by day is compen-
sated by gorging at night. Other Badawin, not of my party,
also gathered round imagining a vain thing in their hearts.
For before me by the most favourable computation was a six
weeks’ march, and my stock of food represented a bare six
weeks’ supply and thus had become more precious than gold.
To dissipate it must lead to certain failure. I had guarded it
most jealously on the march; it was the only matter over
which I could afford, when seriously challenged, to show
temper, for I knew that the end of my rations meant the end
of my journeyings. Normally camels in milk are taken
along at grazing speed; not on raids or forced marches,
which would run them dry or exhaust them. Thus the
great desert before me, with camels of necessity not in
milk, would provide, in the last event, nothing but the flesh
of our own mounts; and to take that would b <z propter vitam
vivendt perdere causas.

Camp must be broken with all speed, for so long as I
remained my old party and the stray starvelings of the sands
that came along would batten on me; so in lieu of food they
were sent aw r ay cheered with two or three dollars apiece.
Similar treatment was accorded to the master of Gerainha -
she, patient brute, having carried me from the Qara
Mountains, was now returning to her home in the steppes
to the south. Her mistress there was reputed to be the most
beautiful girl in all the land, one that troubled the hearts of
not a few of my escorting Badawin; indeed, she was the
subject of a romance of which she would learn in due course
after her fate had been decided. She was now nineteen and

[ * 9 ° ]

A BRIDE AND HER DOWRY

unmarried, an unthinkable state of affairs in polygamous
Arabia, and Bin Aksit, her father, was twitted by the rest
of his companions on the march for his selfishness.

‘Why not give her to the Sahib ?’ they would say
mockingly, ‘he’s young and strong, and look at his dollars,
why, you could buy all the camels in Rub’ al Khali.’
And behind his back they would accuse him of miserli-
ness for he was passing rich in the possession of fifteen
camels, and as he had no close male relatives, the daughter
would inherit his all, which made her doubly attractive in
their sight.

‘How much do you want for her ?’ I asked him one day
in the dispassionate way which a Badu would tolerate
from the lips of a man not like himself.

‘Three camels,’ 1 he said. ‘Why, the daughter of ’Ali
brought her father three, and who can compare ’Ali’s
daughter with mine ? All know she is worth it, but no one
has offered me more than two, so I will not agree and she is
content to stay with me.’

1 This marriage price would go entirely to the father. With Bait Kathir
in the mountains the marriage-price of a virgin bride may vary between
twenty dollars and three hundred dollars, according to her family, face and
fortune, but a half only goes to her father, the remainder being divided
between the other near relatives. I have met a case of a two-hundred-dollar
bride (which places her high in the scale of social values) where the division
was as follows: father (half), one hundred dollars; brother, thirty; mother,
twenty; sister, nothing; paternal uncle, twenty; maternal uncle, ten; paternal
aunt, five; maternal aunt, four; paternal grandfather, four; paternal grand-
mother, three; byes, i.e. unaccounted for, four.

A widow or divorced woman on remarrying would herself get the
marriage-price.

In Oman the bridegroom pays half the marriage price in advance to the
father, and the remaining half after marriage by slow instalments. In
theory it goes to the bride for her jewels, bedding and personal adornments.

[w 1 !

THE SANDS OF DAKAKA

That was a fortnight before. Later I had seen that Bin
Aksit and Ma’yuf sat round the same camp-fire together
overmuch, and now and then withdrew from the general
circle to engage in rapt conversation, and the gossip of the
camp when Gerainha had departed was that Ma’yuf was
the lucky man.

Private conversation is achieved by two persons rising
from the circle and betaking themselves fifty paces or so
from their companions, but even then they are not safe from
intrusion. It is amusing to watch a third Badu come along
and instead of sitting in the general circle, go up and salaam
the whisperers and sit down with them - a flattering if
gratuitous indication that he thinks their talk more likely to
interest him. There is so much community of life amongst
them, however, living as they do in the open, always cheek
by jowl for mutual protection from a common enemy, that
familiarity, and the impulse to act without too sensitive a
feeling for others is ingrained in them, and a European who
would travel happily must be prepared to adapt himself to
their standards. On one occasion, for instance, a Kathiri,
seeing the milk bowl at my side, suddenly held it to his lips
and drained its contents; they were dregs, it is true, but a
European could not afford to show resentment. Even my
heart-to-heart talks with Shaikh Salih were not undisturbed,
for one or other of my party spotting us from afar and
finding the attraction irresistible would come up with a
hearty salaam and sit down without a ‘by your leave,’ to
hear what it was all about.

With my party reduced in numbers to twenty men,
nearly all strangers to me, we started off again on a westerly
course, meeting no encampment on our way. I suspected
that the main body of the Rashid tribe was grazing to the

[192]

THE SANDS OF DAKAKA

north, and it was essential that I should escape their
importunities for food. I should thus also avoid the
consequences of any religious objection some fanatic among
them might take to my presence on the sacred soil of the
Faithful.

The first day, as usual, was a short march - the fresh,
untried camels bellowing protests against unusual burdens,
and their masters quarrelling among themselves about
alleged inequalities of loads. My Bikaner-pattern saddle
was the subject of universal disapprobation for its size and
weight, wherefore I suffered the humiliation of being given
a different camel to ride each day.

In this region of Dakaka the sands were somewhat milder
in mood than the mountains and valleys of Uruq-adh-
Dhahiyah, for which they form an exaggerated crossing of
the T. The basic formation was a hard red sand, in
immense undulations, like a troubled sea many times
magnified. Occasional superimposed sandhills of a paler
colour (that became less lofty as we went on) were some-
times solid, sometimes horseshoe-shaped - termed hugna ,
and of very curious shape. They appear to arise from
reversible wind action and in their depressions lay often a
white patch of gypsum and not infrequently a water-hole.

Here there was no lack of sweet water - sweet, that is to
say, judged by the other waters of the sands - and amidst
improved pastures we deliberately made slow going, so that
I now found more opportunity for collecting of zoological
specimens and photography than during the recent long
nervous marches when such things had to be neglected.
We dawdled in fact while bin Kilut and bin Ham went
scouting the country-side about my business.

The important member of the new party was Hamad bin

N C *93 ]

THE SANDS OF DAKAKA

Hadi, whom I grew to respect as the days wore on. His
companions showed towards him much respect, as befitted
the son of his father, a Murri known throughout the sands,
who had slain eight men of the rival Manasir tribe during
his lifetime and had died in venerable old age beside the
eponymous well of Bir Hadi, one of many water-holes dug
by him. With Hamad came his nephew Marzuq, our
mu'edhdhin on the march, and a cousin, another Hamad, of
rather unstable temper, who appeared with two strings
dangling from his nose (suggestive of the physician’s
stethoscope with nostrils for ear-holes). This practice of
plugging the nostrils with cotton is common throughout
Arabia and Persia, as a protection against evil smells which
are supposed to aggravate most maladies. Hamad clearly
suffered from ophthalmia, which, however, he ascribed to
an evil spirit, a zar. I attended its exorcism that evening,
a simple ritual compared with the elaborate performances
practised in the coastal villages of Oman , 1 but presumably
of the same nature and lacking nothing in the frenzied
display of the possessed. The chief differences were that the
desert audience were not women, but men, who did not
play a hysterical part in the proceedings: the Master of
Ceremonies was a man and not a woman; and fire was used
in place of blood.

Hamad, the afflicted, knelt before the fire within a circle
of squatting companions, the Master of Ceremonies,
Muhammad bin Shughaila, seated himself next to him, and
between them on the sands was placed a cup filled with fire.
One or two of the party brought their cooking -pots and
thus was the stage set.

Hamad now took off his head-dress, folded it once

1 See my Alarms and Excursions in Arabia.

[ J 94 ]

TYPICAL DAKAKA SANDS

THE RITUAL OF EXORCISM

diagonally and used it as a shawl and veil combined, holding
the ends with outstretched arms. He began to bob and sway
his body, while his companions around chanted, 1 clapped
their hands, and drummed with their fingers on upturned
pots. The z^r-possessed put more and more frenzy into his
movements as the minutes passed, bowing blindly over the
fire on to which he must have many times fallen but for the
care of a neighbour, who held out a cane before him; now
and then he took up the cup of fire to hold it under his veil
and inhale it as though .it were the incense burner, an act
that seemed to impel him to more feverish activity, and so
it w r ent on until his voice became tremulous and his mood
hysterical. An hour may have passed thus; and now the
Master of Ceremonies began. He had a series of questions
to put to the zar (who speaks by the mouth of the patient),
but the zar seemed to share my view that the exorcism had
been too summary or so it seemed by the tardiness at first
of the answers.

M.C.: ‘Are you ajeraV

Zar.: (No answer.)

M.C.: ‘Are you jinnV

Zar: (No answer.)

Chorus of Badawin: ‘It’s a zar of course. Has not Hamad
said it is Saif Shangur?’ 2

Hamad w r ent on swaying and gibbering. A pause on the
part of the M.C.

Badawin: ‘Go on, Muhammad!’

M.C.: ‘You are a shaikh. What do you w r ant ? Tell us.’

Zar: (No answer.)

More vigorous drumming and hand-clapping. The

1 See Appendix VI for the chant.

2 There are many zars. This is one of the most popular of them.

[ J 95 ]

THE SANDS OF DAKAKA

patient whispering to himself: ‘Saif Shangur! When are
you coming ?’

M.C.: ‘Do you want money?’

Zar (at last on the move): ‘A ring.’

M.C.: ‘Must it have a stone in it?’

Zar\ ‘A ring.’

Chorus of Badawin to M.C.: ‘Don’t ask unnecessary
questions.’

M.C. to Badawin: ‘Who has a ring?’

Ma’yuf parted with his poor possession, which the
Master of Ceremonies now introduced into the cup of fire
and then put on one of Hamad’s fingers, and so continued
holding his hand while he put his final question.

M.C.: ‘Will you remove the evil from the eye?’

Zar\ ‘Yes.’

M.C.: ‘There is no other evil except that in the eye?’

Zar\ ‘No.’

M.C.: ‘Swear that you will remove it.’

Zar\ ‘Eh, eh.’

M.C.: ‘Swear by the oath of a qabaili .’

Zar\ ‘ Fi wijhak .’

M.C.: ‘ Shered .’ - It has fled.

And thus the proceedings were at an end, and the no-
longer-afflicted one rose unsteadily and went off to his sandy
couch for the night.

We left our camp that lay to the north of the water-hole of
Bil Ashush and moving westwards came two hours later to
a great horseshoe hill named Hulaiyil, the red sands here
clothed unexpectedly with generous dark green abala. It
was our New Year’s Day - a festival unrecognised of course
by Badawin (indeed, only two of my Rashidi companions
remembered the days of the week) - but the place pleased

[196]

THE RESULT OF EXORCISM

us all for its pastures, and I decided to halt and spend the
day shooting. Hamad, the subject of last night’s exorcism,
came up as I dismounted. His eyes were no better, though
he would have me believe that they were, pointing in proof
to the nostril wads that had been withdrawn and hung about
his neck - but still kept in reserve, I noticed. Perhaps he
was of too recent a generation of believers for a faith-cure,
for the Murra tribe are said not to practise magic with the
exception of the isolated southern groups, having learned
it from the Rashid, who use it in common with every tribe
of the southern steppe.

I spent the remainder of the day with my rifle under my
arm, making a circuit of the camp at some two or three
miles’ distance, but to my surprise came upon no track of
any animal bigger than a hare, for, despite the hungry
marches of the southern borderlands, we passed tracks of
antelope and fox there every day. Animal imprints became
easy to identify, and I soon learned without any conscious
effort those of every wild animal of the sands and when it
had passed. Dakaka was overrun with the golden hare, and
almost every bush bore signs of a recently scraped hole
beneath. Into these the passing Badu would thrust an arm
and draw out the wriggling creature, while we would often
spy one sleeping in some leafy shade and easily get quite
near to it upon the soft noiseless sands.

Hare for dinner produced another animal story. If you
would hear how the hare became lawful for man to eat, it is
necessary for you to know two things: firstly, that in the
ancient days the brute creation could speak; and secondly,
that it was customary for the women of the time to bind into
a faggot the sticks they had gathered and ride it home like
the witches of Europe with their broomsticks.

[ l 97]

THE SANDS OF DAKAKA

One day, then, the Prophet (upon him be prayer and
peace) said to some women: - ‘Go and gather me firewood.’
And off they went as they were bidden, but in the wilder-
ness they fell to gossiping overmuch and dallied.

And the Prophet (upon him be peace), when they did
not return, became impatient, and said to the hare that sat
at his side:

‘Go out into the wilderness and you will see some women
gathering sticks; tell them to bind up their bundles, and
ride home at once.’

So off the hare went and found the women, but instead
of conveying the message as it was delivered to him, he
merely said:

‘The Prophet says, “Put the firewood on your heads and
return home.” ’

Thus the women, gathering up their sticks, came,
returning by the slowest way.

As the hours passed and they did not arrive, the Prophet
grew angry; but at last he saw them approaching, and as
they came up he cried:

‘Why did you not return riding as you always do ?’

‘Because the hare said you wished us to return this way,
O Prophet of God.’

Then the Prophet turned his wrath from the women to
the hare, and picking up a brand from the fire, he struck
the now fleeing animal on the tail, which to this day bears
a small black mark. Then he raised his voice so that all
could hear and called after the hare, ‘Henceforth you are
hallal , for all men to eat, every bit of you - even to your
bowels.’

We made an early start next day and soon passed two
mighty horseshoe hills that marked the water-holes of

[i 9 s 3

A FAMOUS RAIDER

Mashruma and Dhiraibi. Hamad the rabia and I were
riding ahead when he suddenly halted, his eyes fixed on
some distant object; and he stretched out his hand towards
me for my telescope. We dismounted while he pointed out
the hill that aroused his fears and motioning me to remain
where I was, crept forward towards it, using the cover of
the folded sands. Later he returned reassured, for the
suspicious thing proved to be a knoll and not an enemy.

Hamad, it seemed, was a marked man. He was famous
for raids, sometimes single-handed, into the Sa’ar country;
he had in fact shed Sa’ar blood, and so could not expect to
survive his next meeting with a superior party of them;
this and the Manasir blood-feud he had inherited gave him
many ghostly fears. Again and again he held us up while
he searched the horizons with my telescope, and whenever
we halted for the night, he would slink back over our tracks
for some miles lest we were being tracked by an enemy, and
return just after nightfall, when tracking was no longer
possible, with the glad news that our camp-fires could now
be safely lighted.

To our immediate north was reported the water-hole of
Waraiga. There my two original emissaries sent from
Dhufar to find their tribe had come upon them . 1 And
there it was that the main herds of the tribe were now
grazing.

1 The route they took is of interest in showing the Rashidis’ probable line of
retreat before Sa’ar depredations. From Shisur my messengers had moved
north-eastwards along the Umm al Hait, struck through the sands of Umm
Dharta to those of Ghanim, where they watered at Khasfa and Ablutan,
thence north-westwards through the salt-pans and sand-mountains of Mijora
to the sands of Hibak, watering at Zughain, thence south-westwards to the
bordering water-hole of Fida, on through the sands of Dakaka to the water
of Waraiga.

[ 199 ]

THE SANDS OF DAKAKA

The rearing of the camel is in this environment the
predestined life to which every man-child is born. He is her
parasite: her milk provides almost all his food and drink,
her wool his shelter and clothing. Life is the quest for green
pastures, rain the gift of God, and lightning man’s pillar of
fire. The great changing world without; the rise and fall of
kingdoms; science and art and learning; spiritual forces at
work for human betterment - ‘the oppositions of science
falsely so-called’ and immoral systems making for human
degradation; the welter of races, tongues and classes - of
these he is unaware. They have no meaning, and therefore
no existence for him. He follows the primitive life his
fathers have led for ten thousand years, and his sons must
live for as long to come. He abjures the soft and sedentary
ways of life; his code knows only pitiless ferocity for his
enemies, and for his friends the heights and depths of
human courage and the milk of human-kindness.

Pastures 1 and water are the two elemental needs of
nomadic life. In winter pastures come first for herds require
water infrequently - once in fifteen or twenty days perhaps,
or where rains have produced sodden grazing they may not
return to a water-hole for two months during which time
the Badawin never taste water but live exclusively on milk.
In summer , 2 on the other hand, w r hen the great heat and

1 Pastures =mara, akl , but generally ma ash (Rashid dialect). To the
Badu the best camel-fodder is the samr acacia found in the steppe at altitudes
above 1200 feet. Next come abala and z ahara shrubs of the sands and
gash after rains or dews, dhu’ya and dha'ut , both steppe flora, follow, and
then markh , found between steppe and sand. Next in the order are ghaf
acacia and selem (known locally as hardhai). There are many other kinds
of camel fodder, but these are the mainstays of the southern deserts.

2 Parties of Murra are said to come from time to time and spend the
summer in Dakaka on account of its comparatively sweet water.

»

MAN AND NATURE

glare make the sands almost unendurable, herds are
restricted within two days’ radius of a water-hole, for they
require watering every other day . 1 In the higher altitudes,
however, and amidst the perennial pastures of the southern
steppe against the mountains, camels are herded into caves
by day to escape the effect of the summer sun, and are
turned out to graze by night in the cool. In these conditions
watering every fourth or even sixth day will suffice.

In the sands themselves man must be for ever on the
move. In summer, movement is by night in sharp marches
from one water-hole with adjoining pastures to another.
In winter, water not being a pressing consideration and
pastures being eaten up as they are found, movement is by
day with a halt of perhaps two or three days over each; the
herds move slowly across the great spaces in unending cycle.
The direction of the march is decided by scouting parties of
two men ( towuf ), who must ride fast and far. Their
reconnaissances in winter may last for several weeks, the
men living on milk, with which their water-skins have been
filled at the outset . 2

In summer the great heat of the sands is a torment to
them, for it makes sleep impossible once the sun is high,
and by night little time avails for sleep, for they must
protect their camels by riding in the cool. An honoured
task is theirs, given to good guides and men who can be
trusted, at need, to calculate not too nicely the time their

1 Camels which are frequently watered are called shuwarib. Camels
away from water in winter for long periods:

(sing.) _(pl.)

jazi juwazi, by Murra.

nash ( neish ) nuwash , by Rashid.

2 After the first few days, of course, the milk curdles; where marches are
long, it is diluted with brackish water.

[ 201 ]

1

THE SANDS OF DAKAKA

milk-skins will last, so that they often return a day or two
late and fasting. Shaikh Salih and many others of my
escorting Badawin had known such experiences. Small
wonder that in their minds milk (which alone makes their
life possible) should be honoured above every other meat.
The Prophet himself held this. Witness the conversation
he held with a companion who had returned from a feast:

Prophet: ‘And what was set before you?’

Companion: ‘We had camel’s flesh.’

Prophet: ‘Your host killed for you.’

Companion: ‘And we had rice.’

Prophet: ‘He honoured you.’

Companion: ‘And dates.’

Prophet: ‘He pleased you.’

Companion: ‘And we had the milk of the camel.’

Prophet: ‘Ah! Enough, he feasted you!’

On the fourth day we continued our westerly course
towards the hugna of Khudhfiya, a large hill that had been
in sight of the camp overnight, and which we passed after
half an hour. In its great gypsum-lined hollow facing
south-west - as do all these horseshoe hills - was a cluster
of straw-like sun shelters beside the water-hole, unusual
erections to find in the sands.

Presumably they were relics of some summer watering.
Hamad slipped off his camel, as the Badu manner is,
without couching her, and handing the headrope to his
nephew as we passed on, descended into the hollow to look
for traces of watering by possible raiders. He caught us up
later with the news that all was well, and only the camel
marks of bin Ham (of my recently dismissed party and now
on his way to Huwaiya on a recruiting campaign) showed
that he had passed three days before. We pressed on to

[ 202 ]

A PRACTICAL JOKE

arrive three hours later at the water-hole of Shanna, our
immediate objective. My advance guard of two Badawin ran
up from the water-hole as we arrived crying, ‘ Gom ! Gom!
Muhammad bin Mubarak the Karabi! Muhammad bin
Quwaid the Sa’ari!’ (names of two notorious Hadhramauti
raiders between whom and my companions there was a
blood-feud). Hamad, with whom I now went to the hole,
scrutinised the sands and gypsum bed about it, then looked
up smiling and reassured. The attempted befooling may
have been to tease him or perhaps to encourage me to
disgorge a little of my supposedly large stock of ammuni-
tion, or it may only have been a joke. In the last event it
succeeded, though it reminded us that we were still very
much exposed to the raider; indeed, Hamad forthwith
borrowed my telescope and made off for the tallest hill
and that was the last I saw of him till the hour of evening
prayer.

[ 2 °3 3

XVI: AT THE WATER-HOLE OF
SHANNA-THE HALT BEFORE THE
NORTHWARD DASH

I t was the full moon before Ramadhan, and a full moon
is a mixed blessing. It makes star observations with an
artificial horizon troublesome. It is an ally of the raider,
for tropical skies are so bright that he can see to track by
night. Its advantage was that I could see to record my notes
with no other aid as I lay near a camp-fire.

That night camel flesh was for dinner. One of our camels
was found to be ailing, some said mortally, and the one way
with a worn-out camel in the desert is to kill and eat it.

The old fatiras tribal brand 1 showed her to be of
Janaba origin, she had indeed been part of the booty of a
raid, a dhalul and lady of high degree before coming to this
sad inevitable end.

‘How does the flesh compare with beef?’ I asked
Khuwaitim, a Rashidi now domiciled in Dhufar, my
original emissary, in fact.

‘Incomparably better,’ he said.

‘And mutton ?’

‘Likewise it lacks the flavour of camel meat.’

‘And what are the prime parts?’

‘In a young camel the lower ribs; to-day the legs.’

‘What of the marrow of the thigh bones?’

1 Each true Badu tribe has a particular mark, usually very simple in
design, but with significance of an armorial bearing: it is branded on each
camel of the tribe on the face, neck or quarter as may be the particular
tribal custom. Sections within the tribe sometimes have their own particular
wasm. A complete list of those met with in Rub’ al Khali is given in
Appendix V.

[ 2 ° 4 ]

CAMEL FOR DINNER

‘Delicacy of delicacies! Wait and you shall see.’

‘And how are we going to have it cooked - stewed or
grilled ?’ (In the steppe where a heap of stones could have
been gathered they would have grilled the flesh in the
Stone Age manner.)

‘We shall boil it. But alas! there is no salt. W’allahi, if
we had salt, you should judge of the soup.’

O, blind lover! I thought. I will also record my own
view that camel flesh is very tough and stringy, and that
boiled, as it has to be, in brackish water and without fat, it
is a weariness both to the palate and to the digestion.

Poor bint Shantuf was brought along and couched. Two
holes were hastily scooped in the sand under her forelegs,
which were then bound, and one Badu holding her tail, and
another twitching her upper lip to bring her head back
along her body, made her powerless to resist. Muhammad,
better butcher than exorciser, had sharpened his dagger
expressly and now bending close to the ground on her
blind side, gave her a sharp stab in the pit of her neck.
A torrent of blood gushed forth as he quickly slashed
across her great throat, muttering as he did so, ‘In the name
of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful,’ and then
continued sawing with his dagger blade through her veins
and windpipe back to the bone, his hands and arms
streaming with blood. After her first desperate lurch and
a few feeble gurgling grunts she lay still, with her monstrous
neck tilted over like a falling tree, and her eyes of a glassy
pallor. Never have I seen Badawin more elated; the pros-
pect of a hearty meal cheered them all and with little axes
and knives they all fell gleefully skinning and jointing.
Five heaps of fresh meat soon lay on the sands - for the
five camp-fire parties composing my caravan, and a shout

[ 2 °5 ]

AT THE WATER-HOLE OF SHANNA

of joy announced the moment to cast lots for them - ever
the desert way. Five representatives stood forth, one for
each party. Ahead-dress was produced and into it each put
a marked round of ammunition. The four corners were
bunched together and the contents shaken up. A by-
stander was invited to grasp one round through the head-
dress, which was then opened and the owner of the chosen
round given first choice of heaps. Four times the perfor-
mance was repeated, each time with a round withdrawn,
and when the last had gone so had the body of bint
Shantuf. Eagerly the Badawin scattered in search of
firewood, for no sooner is an animal slaughtered than
straight it goes into the pot, neither Arab climate nor Arab
nature suffering it to ‘hang’; within an hour of the time
when the beast walked up to the place of execution she was
sizzling to content the hearts and noses of the Badawin
sitting round their camp-fires. Not that all of her was to
be cooked and eaten that day, for much of the flesh was
kept back to relieve our scanty store of food. The surplus
meat my companions cut into strips and later dried, like
biltong, merely by carrying it on their saddles exposed to
the sun, and as they went they nibbled it and declared it
to be very good.

As soon as afternoon prayers w r ere at an end the party
addressed themselves to the great shining stomach of the
beast. It was perched on the top of a convenient abala bush
beneath which a circular hole about a yard in diameter was
scooped in the sands, and lined with bint Shantuf’s own
neck skin as for a waterproof sheet. The bladder was now
pierced and the contents trickled down to make a pool of
yellow liquid.

‘It is delicious,’ they said, as each in turn went down on

[ 206 ]

THE VALLEY OF IMAGES

hands and knees setting his lips to it to drink his fill; ‘far
better than the brackish water of the sands.’

I was not astir at dawn, but learned later from my servant
Muhammad that the mu' edhdhin s call no sooner woke them
than the Rashidis made a joyous dash for a drink at the
pool 1 before lining up for prayers.

At Shanna one of my party brought me a perfect flint
arrow-head saying that he had found it at the water-hole,
but this was untrue. The arrow-head, like a large flint
spear-head in possession of another Arab, had come from
the sands of Sanam. The owners from whom I acquired
them had no knowledge of their original use, but I gathered
that such flints are sometimes picked up in the sands and
used as firelighters. Hamad bin Hadi, to whom I showed
them, that he might search for others to our common
advantage, considered them intrinsically uninteresting, for
he with an eye less for archaeology than for the picturesque,
declared that at but a day’s march west of Shanna there were
‘stones’ in abundance and more interesting by far, graven
images - ‘God was the Knower!’ - and the work of the sons
of Adam in the Days of Ignorance. The name of this spot
amidst the dunes of Ga’amiyat he called Shag al Masawwar,
a name which seemed to promise much, ‘the Valley of
Images.’ It was deemed unwise for me to leave the main
party, so I sent Hamad to bring me specimens against the
promise of reward. Thirty-six hours later he returned with
a rib-like stone two feet in length, another of symmetrical
circular shape, one and a half feet in diameter, that looked

1 Ilfadh. The Murra, according to Hamad, contrary to South Arabian
tastes, do not greatly relish it, and drink it only when suffering from thirst
that cannot be satisfied in any other way. The Rashidi word for it, althudh ,
seems to have substituted th for/, a peculiarity I noticed in other words.

[ 207 ]

AT THE WATER-HOLE OF SHANNA

like the pelvis of some ancient reptile and various small
specimens of quaint shapes, resembling Losspuppen or
Fairy Stones. These were clearly Nature’s work. The two
big ones looked like fossil bones, but proved to be mere
sandstone concretions . 1

‘Here you are, Sahib!’ said Hamad, as he laid them on
the sands before me, while his fellow Badawin looked at
him disapprovingly for having brought along what must be
added burdens for the camels.

‘I don’t know what they are, Hamad, what do you think
they are ?’

‘The work of Bani Hillal, Allahu aliml ’ said he, and the
onlookers nodded their assent.

Bani Hillal through the length and breadth of Arabia,
and indeed of North Africa, is a name to conjure with, a
name that stands for an ancient but now extinct tribe to
which every well or other relic of past days is ascribed; its
name is ever on the lips of men. Bani Hillal is the fount of
the whole folk-lore of the southern desert. Every Badu has
something to tell of its legendary heroes, often in the simple
rhymes of his beloved tongue, and when I have heard one
story from different lips, I have noticed that the version
hardly differs by one word.

The great traditional hero of Bani Hillal was one Bu
Zaid, so named not that he was the father of a son Zaid, but
because he was ‘the possessor of excellence’ - a man of
superior qualities. The name Antar was strange to these
remote dwellers in the Rub’ al Khali, but legends of Bu
Zaid and of his kinsman Dhiyab bin Ghanim, another hero
of the tribe, these they have in abundance.

They place the ancient home of Bani Hillal in Wadi
1 See Appendix II.

[ 208 ]

TRADITIONS OF BANI HILLAL

Markha in the land now occupied by the Daham; there the
mighty well Bir Jaufa with its thirty rigs remains to this
day, men tell, as their glorious memorial. Every member
of my party knew some verses - Salih knew them all - of
the poem, a typical heroic, of Bani Hillal in their spacious
days and their decline. It recounts how one hundred
thousand, nay, two hundred thousand, had been the
number of their horses; it told of Bu Zaid’s two thousand
forbears, of the great drought that befell the land, so that
there was no rain for thirty years and camels ate of the hair
of each other and perished miserably while their masters
were vainly digging in the earth for roots with which to
feed them; nor was there even a breath of wind so that the
finely powdered waris 1 they had placed on the Peak of
Markha, was found undisturbed a year later; and the sons
of the shaikh of Bani Hillal approached their father and
said, ‘The people die of hunger and we must take from the
merchants to feed them,’ but he would not, though he
himself went hungry and the fort walls groaned with grief.

Most of the stories, however, have to do with a later
generation, when Bani Hillal had become a poor nomadic
tribe and were waging war with the settled people of Risha,
whose king was Zenaiti.

Bu Zaid, their champion at this period, owed a charmed
life to his mother’s descent from the jinniya, which made
him impervious to iron, whether it were arrow, sword or the
spear, till the day he bore witness ‘ La Illah, UP Allah ,’
whereupon the jin ns who had hitherto protected him from
front and rear withdrew their protection from the front, so
that he became like other men in that he could be killed

1 A vegetable product of South-west Arabia used in Oman as a skin-dye;
it is brought as a fine powder, canary-yellow in colour.

O [ 209 ]

AT THE WATER-HOLE OF SHANNA

from that direction. Some of these stories that I thought
worth recording will appear in subsequent chapters, as they
were told me from time to time on the march or round the
camp-fire.

My position here at Shanna I calculated to lie north-
eastwards of the Hadhramaut, lat. 19 0 N., long. 50° 45' E.,
altitude 990 feet. Our objective was to be Doha in the
Qatar Peninsula on the Persian Gulf 330 miles distant as
the crow flies across this barren ocean of interior sands.
Hamad claimed to have been there once, pointing his
cane in a direction a shade to the east of north, which fitted
exactly with my traverse and astronomically worked
positions. But I had to be careful not to appear too knowing.

A plan of action had crystallised, thanks to the Murra
rabia. The size of our party would be reduced to twelve
picked men and mounts and five pack animals all in perfect
condition. This would make. my rations good for thirty
days, less the five days which must elapse before the arrival
of the new party; but meanwhile to seek relief by reducing
my present escort was impossible for fear of raiders. My
resources thus allowed none too great a margin, and to
loiter in these sands meant death. Perfect health in camel
and man was essential; marches must be long and sharp;
loss of camels, sickness, treachery or tribal opposition
involving a hold up of ten days or too slow progress might
spell disaster. The great consideration was to get out of
the hunger-stricken wastes as soon as possible. Such were
the themes of Hamad’s daily homilies.

A successful crossing was by no means certain; if the
pastures in our way failed, we should have to face the
question whether to tempt the Fates further by going on,
or to turn back to certain sustenance, but with men

[210]

UNWANTED GUESTS

physically fit and fresh camels in good fettle at the most
advanced jumping-off point, the problem was well on
the way to solution. This was the stage I had reached.
Shanna was a strategic point in my crossing, and the start-
ing-post for the last relay.

The improvement in the ration situation which came
from the slaughter of the camel was now offset by the
arrival of untimely guests - a party of five Karab and
Manahil that had crossed the sands by easy stages from Abu
Dhabi. Like all their kind on first acquaintance, they
maintained an icy reserve and, in answer to my enquiries as
to their route, waved a general direction, a matter I found
it politic not to press.

I had hoped that they would not dally, but the dates
and coffee which they must receive seemed to encourage
them to stay for more. It soon became clear that they had
no intention of moving so long as my Rashidis’ bounty was
forthcoming. Hamad the rabia alone realised how necessary
it was to husband our rations, especially in the light of an
approaching Ramadhan, but to withhold food from the
passing strangers so long as they chose to remain in my
camp would have been to infringe the sacred rules of desert
hospitality, if not to incur the odium of my companions.
How my men would have wished to regard a parlous
situation was reflected in another story to the credit of
Bu Zaid.

‘Bu Zaid was most famed of his day for generosity. Camel
by camel he had killed his immense herd to feed the stranger
and the poor. So the forty sections of Bani Hillal took
counsel and said, “We will each give Bu Zaid a camel so that
he may possess a herd again. ” And this they did. But the
numbers of his guests and the largeness of Bu Zaid’s heart

[ 211 ]

AT THE WATER-HOLE OF SHANNA

led once again to the day when he had no camels left.
The Bani Hillal saw there was no profit in Bu Zaid having a
herd, so they said, “We will make him a present of only one
camel on which to mount his wife when the tribe is moving,
and this we will do on the one condition that Bu Zaid
swears not to slaughter her for the guest, as he otherwise
most surely would.”

‘And Bu Zaid agreed to their stipulation.

‘Several moons had come and gone and Bani Hillal were
encamped with their vast herds and their numerous tents,
when there arrived a party of Arabs from the side of Mecca,
and they enquired, “Where is the tent of Bu Zaid ?”

‘And none would say.

‘ “Tell us, where is the tent of Bu Zaid?”

‘ “It is before you,” and so they passed on and on.

‘And Bu Zaid hearing them called to his wife and said,
“Bind my eyes that I see not the faces of guests for whom
I cannot make a feast.” So she brought a strip of date
basket and covered his eyes with it.

‘And after a while he said to her, “Look out and see has
anyone taken them in.”

‘And she looked out. “No,” she said, “they are before
the tent of So-and-so.”

‘And a little later he asked, “See! who has taken them in ?”

‘ “No one,” she replied, “they have now moved on to the
next tent.”

‘And again and again he asked, and again and again
received the same reply, so that his heart grew hot within
him, and at last able to contain himself no longer he rose,
and tore the covering from his eyes, and taking a knife
slaughtered his only camel where she stood at the entrance to
his tent, and sending for the strangers made for them a feast.’

[ 212 ]

THE PROWESS OF BU ZAID

I could feel no such sentiments for my unwelcome
guests from Abu Dhabi, who proved leech-like in their
attachment. They were on their way home to the steppes
north-east of Hadhramaut, which led me to question them
about the mystery of their famous Bir Borhut, supposed
scene of volcanic activity, the only one on the mainland of
Arabia, and quoted by Dr. Hogarth as ‘that great well
cursed by ’Ali, according to the Jihan Numa.’ They, like
earlier escorts of mine who knew the country, were
emphatic that no volcano existed. But various superstitions
attach to the wadi wherein the well exists, the most persistent
that it was the place of the departed spirits of wicked men,
so that to this day none dare approach it by night.

One of the Hadhramautis made a deal with a member of
my party - a young camel in exchange for a rifle, ammuni-
tion and dollars - but from the noisy arguments that
accompanied the transaction, it appeared to lack the grand
manner which marked an exploit of Bu Zaid in his boyhood
as told me that afternoon:

‘Bu Zaid was an orphan and brought up by his uncle the
shaikh, Husain bin Sirhan. One day while yet a boy he
was grazing a small herd of two bull and seven cow camels,
and there came passing by a party of Arabs, and with them
was a camel, and on the camel’s back was a massive sword,
shahman.

‘And Bu Zaid, regarding the sword, enquired of the
Arabs whether they would sell it.

‘ “Yes, if you wish to buy it,” they said mockingly,
because it was so large and heavy that no ordinary mortal
could wield it. And so the camel was couched.

‘Bu Zaid now took up the sword, sighing, “I would have
wished it a little heavier, but perhaps it will do.”

[ 2I 3 ]

AT THE WATER-HOLE OF SHANNA

‘Then he laid it aside and went to his camels and brought
and couched a cow and over her he placed one of the two
bulls to serve her. 1 This was to be the target for his aim,
and the test of the sword. If it cleft through the bull into
the camel he would buy it.

‘Then he picked up the sword, and standing a little way
back he lifted it above his head and brought it crashing
down upon the hump of the bull with such force that it
severed the two camels into four halves. And turning to the
Arabs he gave them his bull and six cows that remained in
payment for the sword, and the sword he placed over his
shoulder and so came joyfully to the side of his uncle.’

It was the forenoon of 8th January at Shanna and I was
sitting exchanging stories with my companions when
suddenly a small party of Arabs and camels appeared from
behind the shoulder of a hill in the middle distance. My
Arabs leapt to their feet and loaded their rifles, though it
was only as a protective measure, for we were expecting the
Bait Imani Shaikh. My telescope and the leisurely approach
of the small party restored confidence and my companions
were able soon to recognise Shaikh Muhammad bin Ham
and his five companions.

They dismounted a little way off, and leading their
camels passed one behind the other along our line of
welcomers, for the usual nose-kiss salute; thereafter all sat

1 Camels are thus, like the llama and the lion, rare in the animal kingdom
in the performance of the act in a sitting position. The Badu master is
necessary to the operation, scooping the sands round the cow’s legs for her
comfort, inserting the penis - the formation of which is in reverse axis to
nearly all the rest of mammal creation, and interfering after a few minutes
to drive the bull off. After ten days if no result is apparent, the cow’s
master will find another bull to serve her. The sign of pregnancy is the
flag-wagging of her ridiculous tail when approached by a rider to mount.

[ 2 1 4 ]

FRESH ARRIVALS

down in a common circle to exchange the desert news -
camels, pastures, raids and the like - over the delicacies of
coffee cup and dates that I provided. Amongst them was
Musellim, a member of my last year’s expedition. His
appearance now was a pleasant surprise, but alas! he had not
been enlisted among his shaikh’s quota, and only came to
importune me in the eager hope that I would enroll him
separately or instead of another. In the morning he made
his plea; he was a typical young Badu with large irregular
teeth, tattooed gums 1 and a wealth of long narrow black
plaits that fell from under his greasy head-dress; he talked,
as the Badu does when excited, in a wild torrent of words,
repeating himself over and over again, but never faltering;
he knelt at my side, his left hand over the crook of his
upright riding stick, his right hand outstretched, the middle
finger and thumb making a letter O with which he kept
tapping an imaginary door-knocker to emphasise his points,
though his voice, which could be heard half a mile away,
would never have conveyed to a stranger, unaccustomed to
his tongue and mind, that this was his appealing mood. He
called God to witness that what he said was true - he was a
better fellow than the next, and his mount was my mount!
a glory to behold and a joy to ride. His impassioned
peroration was typical, so that I thought it worth recording.
‘Ya Sahib - tshuj - look here - I want to come with you -
do you hear me? - I am like your servant Muhammad to
fetch your firewood and obey your orders - do you hear
me? -I know the sands’ (a deliberate falsehood) ‘and I’m

1 A series of short black tattoo lines on the upper and lower gums between
the teeth. It is a universal practice of both sexes in South Arabia, carried
out in childhood, and is said to arrest the growth of long teeth and to prevent
them from becoming loose.

[ 2I 5 ]

AT THE WATER-HOLE OF SHANNA

more favoured of God than others. I call God to witness -
Listen! O long of life, I’m not like Sahail or other - Are
you listening to me?’ (Sahail was!) - ‘If you enrol me -
pause - tshuj - 1 do not want money in advance, I can be
patient - tshuj - O long of life, look at my camel, fat,
rahaim , glory be to God. She will arrive at Qatar or where
you wish - do you hear me ? - I’m your servant dhil hin and
ghair dhil hin - tshuj -O long of life - if you won’t take
me take her, wajain jidak - I am your servant like Muham-
mad, you know me - have you thought about it? -I’m a
good lad - Glory be to God ’ (here he touched my sleeve
with his hand which he then carried to his lips and kissed).
‘■wa had ha! salamtak .’

Musellim’s eloquence ended. He sat back looking up
for my decision. I liked the wild ruffian, but the ration
question forbade my increasing my party without some
strong reason, and so against my personal inclinations I told
him, No.

Next day Musellim came to say farewell, and so departed
to his tribe, smiling as he went, without a semblance of
ill-will towards me, confident only in the wisdom of Allah’s
inscrutable ways.

My party for the onward move was now complete, for
Shaikh Salih and his men had already arrived. He too had
brought with him an extra recruit, one Talib, a Murri
herdsman of the Shaikh of Qatar, thus raising the number
of my escort to thirteen. Both Hamad, my rabia , and Salih
pressed for Talib’s inclusion - the number thirteen is not
unlucky in Arabia - and so a party of thirteen Badawin it
had to be. Talib was indeed a most valuable acquisition for
he had crossed the sands this year, whereas my rabia had
not done so for many years, and the bulk of my escort never

[ 2l6 ]

PURITANS OF THE DESERT

at all in this longitude. Talib’s still greater qualification
was that he claimed to know the recent whereabouts in the
Jiban, where our course must lie, of Ikhwan tribes , 1 with
whom we must at all costs avoid collision.

These Ikhwan are religious zealots, the puritans of Islam,
distinguished amongst their co-religionists for bigotry and
intolerance, and the militant nature of their creed. In their
eyes even my companions, members of orthodox sects of
Islam (the South Arabians, Shafi’, the Murra, Hanbali)
were heretics, while to me, a non-Muslim, they were likely
to be very hostile, and here, being only nominally under
the rule of Bin Sa’ud, they might be emboldened to attack
us. Smoking is to these Ikhwan a serious and punishable
offence, and the nomadic life anathema, because the absence
of water it entails must lead to infringement of those
religious rules of Islam that prescribe ablution before
prayer and after bodily functions. And being for the most
part recent converts themselves from Badawin life, they
display all the fanaticism of the proselyte.

My own servant, Muhammad, a Muscati and no paragon,
put the Ikhwan case succinctly to me one day as his own
sceptical view of the acceptability of the nomad’s religion.

‘These Badawin,’ he said of my companions, ‘are not
fashioned after the manner of God’s creatures at all.’

‘How?’ I said.

‘They go for months without water. The sons of Adam
would not tolerate it. And their women! they have inter-
course with them and do not wash the greater ablution.
How can their prayers avail ?’

1 The elements we feared were Bani Hajar and two sections of the
Murra — Fuhaida and A1 Adhaba.

C 2I 7 1

XVII: THE NORTHWARD DASH

Y" II "-^he zero hour for the northward dash had arrived,
I and at four o’clock on the afternoon of ioth January

Jl 1931, my small party set out from Shanna. I should
have preferred an early morning start, for I was tired after
a busy day spent in settling accounts with my old escort
and making advances to a new one. But there were two
compelling reasons for delay: firstly, because of the neces-
sity for moving camp before dividing up rations amongst
my escort; our Hadhramauti visitors and relatives of my
escorting Badawin, who ostensibly came to say farewell,
• had held on till the last in the hope of profiting; to have
issued rations in their presence without giving them a
share or allowing my Badawin to do so would have been
impossible. Secondly, my rabia held Saturday to be the
day most propitious for starting a journey, and Sunday
entirely unacceptable . 1

1 Propitious and unpropitious days were constantly met with in South
Arabia. The second and fifth days of the week were held to be good : F riday
only moderately so. Sections of the Mahra tribe will never start on a raid
or journey on a Sunday at all, or on a Friday until after the midday prayer.
The first day of the moon is held to be a good day if it falls on any other
day of the week.

Karab and other Hadhramaut Badawin have told me of the following
superstitious beliefs which may or may not hark back to ancient star worship
in South Arabia:

(a) During a period of five days, when the moon is in the constellation

of Scorpio, action is unpropitious; no raid, journey or the like
will ever be undertaken.

( b ) The age of the moon is taken as a guide in the direction of a

journey. The first, eleventh and twentieth days, called duwar ,
are propitious for movement in any direction.

The semi-circle east-sou th-west is divided up into ten

[218]

BU ZAID AND HIS SON

Passing the first high sand ridge sufficed to meet the
twin requirements of self-preservation and superstitious
belief, and we halted for the night. Camels were un-
saddled, hobbled and driven off to the nearest camel-thorn
while their masters gathered round to feast their eyes on
the rare sight of bountiful food, and to take physical
possession of it. Each drew his share of butter in a lizard-
skin — a receptacle always found in a Badu’s saddle-bag,
while the other rations were divided up in bulk between
the three parties that had been formed. The sight of flour,
dates and rice had an exhilarating effect on these habitually
hungry men and put them in the right mood for story-
telling; so Salih, as he presided over the division of the
dates, was easily prevailed upon to tell us another story
of Bu Zaid.

‘Bu Zaid had a wife but did not allow himself complete
coition with -her, and so he suspected that the two sons she
had borne were not his, but another’s. The tribe perceived
that they did not resemble him and also had their suspicions,
so came privily to Bu Zaid’s sister and said that Bani Hillal
must have a son from the loins of Bu Zaid. Wherefore one
night she went secretly to her brother’s bed and he, not
knowing her in the darkness from his wife, lay with her.
And as he was about to withdraw himself prematurely,
according to his habit, she jabbed him with the bodkin
that she had kept in her hand in readiness for this moment.
The shock achieved its intent and in the fullness of time
she bore a son, who came to be known as ’Aziz bin Khala,

divisions (bearings) coinciding with the ten days between the
duvcar. It is unpropitious to move on a bearing that coincides
with its day, e.g. third bearing from east on third, thirteenth or
twenty-second of the lunar month.

[ 2I 9 ]

THE NORTHWARD DASH

’Aziz, son of his uncle. And ’Aziz grew up into a strong
youth, endowed with courage and other virtues.

‘Many years had passed, and Bu Zaid wished to discover
which, if any, of these three supposed sons was his. So he
said to the eldest, “Come, we will go a journey.” And Bu
Zaid prepared a sack of flour and put into the mouth of it
a single date. Then the greybeard and the youth prepared
their camels and journeyed till they came to a plain which
was as bare of pastures as the palm of a man’s hand, except
for a single sidr tree. And Bu Zaid said, “Here we will halt
and I will sleep under the sidr , while you prepare me a
meal.”

‘And while he slept the young man looked round but
could find no firewood, for the sidr was green, so he opened
the sack of flour, and seeing the single date within, took
and ate it, for he was hungry.

‘And Bu Zaid awaking, said, “Where is the meal ?”
“There is none,” the youth answered, “for firewood is
nowhere to be found, and I opened the sack to find but
one date and that I ate.”

‘ “Then we must return,” said Bu Zaid.

‘And after they had dwelt in their tents some days, Bu
Zaid addressed the youth’s brother, saying, “Come, let
us go a journey.” And again he prepared the sack of flour
with the single date, as he had done before, and the two set
out and came to the same plain with its single sidr tree.

‘Said Bu Zaid, “I must sleep here while you prepare the
meal.”

‘And the young man looked about for firewood and
could find none, then he opened the sack and seeing the
date, ate it.

‘So when Bu Zaid woke and asked for his meal, there

[ 220 ]

BU ZAID AND HIS SON

was none, and the youth gave answer as his brother had
done.

‘And so they returned home.

‘Some days had passed when Bu Zaid turned to ’Aziz.
“Come,” said he, “we will go a journey.”

‘Once more he prepared the sack of flour and put into
it the single date, and the old man and the youth set off,
and they came to the same bare plain with its single sidr
tree.

‘ “I must sleep,” said Bu Zaid, “prepare a meal.” So
’Aziz searched the plain for firewood, but finding none,
came back and sat down to think, and he saw that only
the dry wood of their saddles and riding canes would serve.
So he made a fire of these, then chopping branches from the
sidr with his dagger he fashioned them into new saddles and
riding crooks. Thus he baked two loaves of bread and set
one for Bu Zaid and the other for himself, and discovering
the date, he cut it in halves and set one upon his father’s
loaf, and the other upon his own. Then he awakened
Bu Zaid, saying, “Arise and eat, O father.”

‘And his father roused himself and beheld what the youth
had done, and jealousy entered Bu Zaid’s heart , 1 and he
said within himself, “I must kill ’Aziz, for he is a better
man than I.”

‘Now it was planned that they should pass on next
morning to the water-hole which lay at a very great
distance. But at midnight Bu Zaid rose and crept stealthily
to ’Aziz’s camel and sticking a needle into her foot lamed

1 Bu Zaid could not tolerate a rival; in his later days he murdered Dhiyab
bin Ghanim, a mighty hunter and fighter, though Dhiyab had taken one of
Bu Zaid’s sisters to wife. Dhiyab’s son, when he grew up, slew Bu Zaid
to revenge his father, in the traditional Arabian manner.

[ 221 ]

THE NORTHWARD DASH

her, and then quietly preparing his own camel, departed
in the dead of night, leaving ’Aziz to perish of thirst.

‘And ’Aziz woke in the morning to discover what his
father had done, for the camel could not put her lame
foot to the ground, and he realised the black design in
his father’s heart. Then he took a needle and stabbed her
other three feet, so that when she put one foot to the
ground the sharp pain would make her raise it again, and
so bring down her other three feet. In this manner she
would pick up one foot after the other and so move forward.
And thus, ’Aziz, taking another route than his father,
was first at the water-hole; there he lay down to rest,
but fearing Bu Zaid, placed his shield, hidden beneath his
mantle, over his body.

‘Bu Zaid, on arriving, found the youth thus sleeping,
and taking his lance, gave a sharp thrust at ’Aziz’s heart.
The spear point, sliding off the shield, awakened ’Aziz,
and he, springing up, wrested the spear from Bu Zaid’s
hand, saying, “I am stronger than thou, and have thee at
my mercy, but thou art my father and my uncle, and so
I spare thee.”

‘Thus did Bu Zaid know that ’Aziz was his own son,
and they fell weeping upon each other’s necks, and
returned home together in contentment of heart.’

*

The end of the story saw the break-up of the party, for
it was the hour of prayer before the evening meal.

The next day was our first proper day’s march, and like
all first days with new men and camels, was short and noisy.
Halts at frequent intervals to adjust camel-loads, and
Badawin bickerings about back and girth-galls kept delay-

[ 222 ]

THE RED SANDS OF DAKAKA

ing us, so that when we halted for the night we had made
scarcely more than twelve miles. Around the camp-fires
the wranglings continued until we evolved a system of
changing loads from day to day in a regular order to ensure
equitable treatment. This restored quiet.

One Badu, more peaceable than the rest, as he collected tit-
bits for his camel from the abala under which I sat, snapped
off a young branch and held it upside down. ‘Look, Sahib,’
he said, as water dripped from within the stem, ‘this is why
your Agaba can go for days without drinking.’

Next day we made an early start on a north-easterly
course, and passing the large white hill of Abu Akhshaba,
came at midday to some isolated dunes which give their
name, Gusman, to the locality and mark the north-west-
ward limit of Dakaka.

Lying inside the great dune bulwark of the southern
borderlands, Dakaka consists of these wide, sweeping red
sandscapes of hardish sand with low dunes running in all
directions. It falls in altitude from probably noo feet
in the south to 785 feet hereabouts, and its long axis runs
east-north-east for a seven days’ march. As we moved
westwards the aspect of Dakaka had grown more rugged
and water-holes increased in depth from three fathoms in
the east to thirteen fathoms at Shanna. Twin water-holes,
Zuwaira and Turaiwa, even deeper than Shanna (which
was within a day’s march of its western extremity) were
said to lie to the south-west. Beyond them to the west
there was reported to be no water in the sands 1 of Ga’amiyat,

1 The route of raiders from the sands into the Hadhramaut is therefore
restricted, to the westwards, to a north-south route through western Dakaka
and Kharkhir. It thence turns west along the southern borders of the sands
through a famous corridor called Shaggag al Ma’atif.

[ 22 3 ]

THE NORTHWARD DASH

Huwaiya and Shuwaikila that extend towards the
Najran.

Our march that day had followed the camel-tracks of a
small herd, and my rabia recognised them as a kinsman’s
and their direction to indicate recent watering. Soon we
came upon the encampment. I was invited to dismount
before two small tents to see a sick man, whom I found old
and much emaciated; he complained of the almost universal
stomach trouble. The Rashid ascribe it to ajera, the most
intractable of evil spirits, but my patient said it was ‘from
God.’ The only palliative in my pow'er was to cheer his
heart with a handful of dates, the last I suspected the poor
wretch would ever want. The urine of the young cow
camel is taken in small quantities for such disorders, or
preferably her vomit (said to be less thirst-provoking),
which is obtained by ramming a stick down her throat.
The urine has a second utility as a hair-wash, in that it
kills vermin. All the desert beauties use it.

The only other occupants of the tent were two women
and a boy. The women were both veiled, as are all the
women of the sands, though they were not averse from
talking with the stranger. They were the wives of the old
man and of his son. The boy, the son of the younger
couple, and aged about four, ran about the tent naked and
uncircumcised . 1 Then the younger man came up, carrying
a badly mauled hare, with its captor running at his side,
a long dog of whippet size and dark brown colour.

1 Circumcision with the Murra takes place at the age of about five or
six. Ar Rashid, and to some extent Bait Imani, have of late years adopted
the same practice, giving up the adult circumcision found among their
Mahra neighbours to the south, but they still maintain certain rites, the
boy being taught to hold his head up bravely during the operation while
the onlookers say ‘Karim! Karim!’

[ 22 4 ]

A DESERT HOME AND ITS FURNISHINGS

The Murra all have these dogs, with which they hunt
the hare and occasional rim for the pot (whereas A 1 Rashid
and other South Arabian tribes have no dogs) and on

our northward march we passed from time to time the

footmarks of a dog, and, near by, the tracks of the

Badu master. Sometimes they were in pairs and ab-

normally extended, a sign that the animal was then in full
course.

The miserable tent where I sat was just high enough to
give a squatting adult headroom. It consisted of two
twenty-foot strips of very roughly woven dark brown and
white wool, the dark colour of camel-hair, the light possibly
from the sheep’s wool of Hasa. Every thread had been
spun and woven by the women within. Lying about was
the bodkin used in its manufacture, a few iron camp-fire
pegs, tent-pegs once the horns of an antelope, the long
iron bars used for digging water-holes, a rounded stone
from the northern steppe to serve as hammer, two camel
saddles and a variety of crude leathern buckets on rough
wooden frames, one a water trough, another a receptacle
for skins. In such items are comprised the few poor
belongings of the nomad folk other than the nobler
possessions of camels and firearms.

We passed out of Dakaka (lat. 19 0 32') into Suwahib,
one of the most extensive regions in the sands. It derives
its name from its character, for the word sahaba stands
locally for parallel ridges, and the plural, suwahib, consisted
of chains of sandhills in echelon, averaging perhaps half
a mile apart, with a general north-east axis, the intervals
between them bellying sands of red. The ridges seldom
exceeded fifty to eighty feet in height though their feature-
less slopes exaggerated their size. They were reported to

p t 22 5 ]

THE NORTHWARD DASH

stretch south-westwards beyond Gusman to embrace the
western Dakaka and reach to the high dunes of Ga’amiyat.

The pastures grew scant as we progressed on a north-
north-easterly course, crossing the suwahib diagonally at
long intervals. A twin giant hill, called Khalilain, was the
only noteworthy feature of the march on the thirteenth,
till we came in the late afternoon to the water-hole of
Bainha 1 , the aneroid showing a fall, to the senses imper-
ceptible, of two hundred feet in the march of nineteen
miles.

Water was at two fathoms. Its great brackishness and its
beer colour were properties which, I was sad to find, were
not disguised by desiccated soup. Indeed, from this stage
onward the water was such that I gave up drinking it
except when desperately thirsty in the saddle, or occasion-
ally as cocoa when halted, for it acted as a violent purge.
In the marches that stretched down and away to the
eastward - the habitat from time to time of my Rashidi
companions - the water was said to be too brackish for
them to drink, while in places even, their camels will turn
away.

Camel’s milk formed my chief diet, but the supply was
limited, for the two milch-animals I had obtained with
much difficulty were approaching the end of their lactation,
and there were days when their milk had to be watered
down to make enough. To these camels, however, I owed
the fitness I enjoyed throughout, though I lost a stone and
a half weight on the diet.

Bainha, where we watered, had been discovered and
dug by my rabia , Hamad bin Hadi. I had already appre-

1 Bainha, so named because it lay midway between the water-hole of
Bir Hadi and the Buwah.

[ 226 ]

TYPICAL SUWAHIB SANDS

THE SKILL OF A GUIDE

dated Hamad’s great worth as a guide, for guiding in the
desert requires not merely memory for direction but an
intuition for water and pastures, and an ability to read the
sands and avoid the evil that may be impressed on them.
Not every Arab bred in these sands can guide, many in
fact lose their way and die of thirst, particularly when
camels stray in summer and their owners have to track
them. To return on his own tracks or to follow those of
others is regarded as a lost man’s safest course to water,
but a wind arising will obliterate all tracks, and wind is
an ever-present menace. About seven years ago a party
of Mahra were raided in the steppe by two members of
Manahil, who made off with ten camels. Discovering the
loss while the tracks of the retiring raiders were still dis-
cernible, seven Mahri stalwarts went in pursuit, and the
tracks brought them to the sands of Dhahiya, previously
unknown to them. On came the bold pursuers, who
reckoned upon the pursued having to halt over a water-hole,
where they too would water. But the Manahil, fearing
pursuit, prudently avoided the water-hole of Khor Dhahiya
and went ploughing on northwards through the death-
dealing sands, one man alone cunningly going off at a
tangent to the water-hole to fill his water-skins and returning
by the same track to rejoin his companions. Thence they
proceeded. The Mahra, following hopefully on the main
camel-tracks of Manahil, were certain that their thirst
would soon be quenched, but before they could overtake
their despoilers a sand-storm came and obliterated all
tracks before and behind them. They were now lost in
the sands. Six months later one of my own party of Rashidis
came upon the seven skeletons and the bones of their camels.

I was filled with admiration for the consistency of Hamad’s

[ 22 7 ]

THE NORTHWARD DASH

direction. Twice and thrice during the hour I would
compare my prismatic compass reading and find a variation
of no more than five degrees. The shadow cast by the sun
at our backs could give no more than a general direction,
and I was naturally quick to assume that he was led by
the orientation of sand corridors, here 45°-5o°. Later,
however, in sands that had no such conspicuous tell-tale
features, his course showed scarcely less exactitude, and I was
driven to seek for some other explanation. Maybe the
faint corrugations of sand surfaces, presumably of some
constancy from prevailing winds solved part of the
mystery, but most I feel is due to an instinctive sense of
direction highly developed in particular individuals, of
whom Hamad was one. He had not been over this country
for many years, and by the very nature of nomadic life,
could not have sojourned in any one place for long. Unlike
all but one of his companions, he had names 1 for the major

1 The identity of his star names with ours, in the case of: Altair=Nasir
al Tair; Rigel = Rijl; Scorpio=Al Agrab, i.e. scorpion (Ar) recalls the fact
that many of our star names are derived from the Babylonians through the
Arabs.

I record below some star-names given me by a dweller in the Rub’ al
Khali who had not been out of the sands:

English

Arabic of

Rub ’ al Khali

English

Arabic of

Rub ’ al Khali

Altair

Nasir al Tair

Regel

Rijl

Vega

Nasir umm Wuga

Betelgeuse

Yid Sa’ad

Polaris

Al Jedi

Bellatrix

Yid al Kesha (Rash-

Great Bear

As Seba’

idi) Yid al Tib

One star

(Murri)

called

Banat Nash

Sirius

Mirzem

Capella

Al Imbari

Canopus

Sahail as Saduq

[ 228 ]

A THESEUS OF THE SANDS

constellations and larger stars, and by night to this Theseus
the labyrinth of the sands had no mysteries.

On reaching lat. 20° my companions observed with
keen interest our arrival into the hadh belt, hadh being a
small, sage-coloured bush, saline in character, which sur-
vives longer without rain or dew than any other desert
growth - whence, in times of exceptional drought, only
the hadh regions in the sands support life. There the sand
tribes are to be found, unless they are driven clean out
into the steppe borderlands, the Rashid in that event retiring
south-eastwards to Umm al Hait, and the oasis of Mugshin,
the Murra back to the northern water-holes of Jabrin and
the Jafurah-Jiban border-line.

Buwah, the first hadh region we entered, was well blessed
and the signal for an early halt to graze. Full bellies led to
an early start, and good going on a bearing of north by
east was made all the more pleasant by a light breeze in
our faces. The intervening trough of the Suwahib here
became red, rolling billows, gentle, but so soft as to occasion
dismounting now and then for a path to be cleared by hand
that the camels might pass. Hungry and desolate country

English

Arabic of

Rub’ al Khali

English

Arabic of

Rub’ al Khali

Pleiades

Al Thuraiyya

Achernar

Sahail al Kadhib

Aldebaran

Kelb al Ghanim

Scorpio

Al Agrab

Auriga

Ghanim

(Its tail)

Shola

Orion

Sa’ad

Venus

Zahra

Orion’s Belt Janbiya

Three small

stars

Ausa [penis)

Venus was the only named planet. They had no name for Jupiter or
Mars.

[ 22 9 ]

THE NORTHWARD DASH

succeeded, with only sprigs of gasis, which grew drooping
as wind-blown trees parallel with the ridge-axis in testimony
to a prevailing north-east wind. In the afternoon we passed
by three shallow water-holes, Bahat Salama, Bahat Hajran,
and Bahat Jamal. Water was reported everywhere on our
right hand at an arm’s depth, but so brackish as to be
undrinkable by man or beast, and therefore named khiran ,
in accordance with a practice common throughout the
sands.

The Badawin, who had not bothered to fill their water-
skins in Dakaka, did so at Bahat Jamal. There also we
watered camels for the water was held to be sweet, whereas
that before us was saline, that would sharpen the thirst
and cause disordered health. The saline pastures of these
sands were equally lowering to the camels.

Next day we passed from the region of Buwah to that
of Umm Malissa. The intervening sands became more
rugged and the long, beautiful ridges grew less definite
in character and broke up into small detached chains,
which were reported to continue northward a day’s march
on our right hand, like an inverted letter S, through the
hadh regions of Karsua’ and Wasa’ to the dunes of Sa’afuk
north of the twenty-first parallel.

The heat was most trying even in this winter month of
January, and for the first time on my journey I felt very
exhausted, doubtless from the combined effects of the
hot sun playing down on my back for nine long hours in
the saddle, and acute thirst after drinking Buwah’s beer-
coloured water.

My note-taking was a week in arrear. There had been
neither time nor opportunity, and had our margin of
rations warranted the risk, I should have been well content

[ 2 3 ° ]

THE SA’AR

to halt for the day, but the need was to press on. The
Badawin, ever mindful of the welfare of their camels, were
ill at ease in these drought-stricken wastes and anxious to
press on with all speed to some expected pastures in southern
Mazariq.

The menace of raiders had diminished as we marched
north and was now left behind. True, the Sa’ar had in
times past raided as far north as this, but to-day, with the
main body of Rashid behind us in the south, a raiding
party would come into contact with them there, or, in any
case, would not be so foolish as to push thus far and expose
itself to the risk of being cut off.

Sa’ar! The name is a word of terror to the Rashid and
the southern Murra, whose boys are brought up to live to
revenge brothers and fathers, and to redeem lost fortunes.
The cause of raids and inter-tribal feuds is at bottom
economic. Men kill and are killed in the fight for camels.
Peace, or rather truce, alternates with war for periods of
a year or two. In time of war it is the greatest shame for a
young man to show no disposition to fight, sharab al
khumr, ‘wine-filled,’ is a synonym for gallantry applied to
the young man who sets out to kill or be killed with a gay
heart, but a stay-at-home who shelters his life or makes
excuses when the communal interests of his tribe are
involved, is regarded as a white-livered craven for whom
none will have respect, and to whom none will give a
daughter in marriage.

Young Kilthut, Shaikh Salih’s son, told me the story of
his ‘blooding’ by the Sa’ar which is worth setting down, not
merely as a true version of what happens when enemies
meet in the Rub’ al Khali, but for the light it throws on
desert psychology.

[ 23 1 1

THE NORTHWARD DASH

War had been going on for a year and more between
Rashid and Sa’ar, and the Rashid decided to make over-
tures for peace. Kilthut was one of four sent as an embassy
to try to make truce for a year. They set out and came to
the steppe, hoping to meet a Sa’ari rabia who would give
them safe-conduct into Sa’ar confines.

But the tale will go better in Kilthut’s own words, as he
spoke them before the camp-fire, his face aglow, and he
himself all animation, for a Badu talks with his eyes and
hands.

‘It was about the hour of the afternoon prayer. Near
the edge of a wadi we dismounted and crept up to the edge,
and peering down into it, saw five Badawin around a camp-
fire and their camels grazing, and we knew them by their
double-poled saddles to be Sa’ar. Greed took possession of
our hearts, for although we came to make peace we had
not as yet done so, and were still in a state of war with the
Sa’ar. Also it seemed that Allah had delivered them into
our hands, for it was near night and they must soon turn
their camels to graze and sleep themselves. Then we could
crawl up and kill our enemies and carry away the spoil.
But now our own counsels became divided. I urged that
we enjoyed a great advantage, having seen them first while
they were yet unaware of our presence. However, the two
chief members of our party, one of them my Uncle Saif,
the Sa’adna shaikh, would not agree, saying that the party
below were probably from a bigger body close at hand, and
their advanced position here showed them to be themselves
on the war-path, so that they would be in no mood for
peace parleys; our mission must therefore end, and we
must fly. In our pride, we two young men, Musellim, a
Bait Imani, and I, said that we would not return except

[ 2 3 2 ]

THE STORY OF A RAID

with the camels of our enemies. Our elders strove with
words of prudence to persuade us to return with them, but
we would not listen and they left us.

‘Musellim and I tethered now our camels at a safe
distance and crawled to the brink of the gorge to watch
the enemy’s movements. Presently one of them took the
camels off to some grazing down the wadi as we had fore-
seen, and then returned to his friends. We saw them make
up their camp-fire for the night. But with our number
reduced now to two against their five, we decided it would
be impossible to overcome them; instead we would creep
down at dead of night, steal the camels, and depart, thus
getting such a start that in the morning there would be no
chance of their catching us up on foot. And so we prayed
the evening prayer and returned to our watching-places and
waited; and about midnight when their fire had ceased to
flicker, we crept stealthily down - we could have killed the
men in their sleep had there been more of us - and we
loosened the hobbles of the camels and thence turned up by
an easy slope and found our own camels, and so we started
off homewards.

‘One of the Sa’aris awoke long before the dawn and
discovered that their camels were missing. He roused his
companions and they followed on our track by the light of
the full moon. Meanwhile we pressed on till the next
afternoon, but being then tired and supposing we had
many hours’ start, my companion and I stupidly halting
for a short rest, fell asleep. Suddenly I awoke. There
before me, at about one hundred paces, was an Arab,
covering me with his rifle. I looked round hurriedly, and
seeing no others supposed that he was alone; so I leapt
behind a small rock to draw my own rifle from its

[ 2 33 ]

THE NORTHWARD DASH

jacket , 1 but before I could do it he had fired. The shot
missed. I had now slipped a round into the breech of my
rifle, but thinking that his action might have been de-
fensive, and him perhaps a friend, maybe some Mahri who
mistook me for a Sa’ari, I shouted, “We are Ruwashid.
Fear not, we are Ruwashid.”

‘He answered, “By my face. I am so-and-so of the Sa’ar,
and we (mentioning his section) are at peace with the
Ruwashid. You have my camels, and we are stronger than
you; thirty men are behind me.”

‘And I shouted, “Deliver me with my life, my camel, and
my rifle.”

‘And he answered, “By my face.”

‘So I got up. But even as I did so his party came rushing
upon me, not knowing what had passed between him and
me. And one of them drew his dagger and lunged at me’
(here Kilthut put his finger in his mouth and rubbed the
spittle along his forearm to discover the old wound-mark)
‘and another stabbed at my companion, but he, jumping
back, was only gashed across the forehead between his two
eyes, though he bled much. But now, God be praised, the
first man who had given us sanctuary came up and
intervened and so our lives were saved.’

‘Then you got the worst of it ?’

‘Yes! They took our two camels as well as their own, and
our rifles and daggers, although I had been promised mine.
But they honoured their word, for later, when peace was

1 Every Badu in the Rub’ al Khali carries his rifle in a rude leather case
to prevent sand from getting into the mechanism. He makes this case
himself, usually from the skin of the antelope or other beast of the chase.
Its tip is often decorated with a gay bunch of leather thongs. The well-to-do
Arab of Oman decorates the stock of his rifle with bands of silver and gold
from the same affectionate sentiment for it.

[ 2 34 ]

THE STORY OF A RAID

made, I got my rifle back and a camel in place of the one
they had taken from me - but not my dagger.’ (A most
unusual course, as there is no restitution between tribes
traditionally hostile, and peace follows the usual formula of,
‘The past be past.’)

‘But,’ continued Kilthut, ‘this Sa’ar party were themselves
to be overtaken by misfortune. They moved on eastwards
and came upon a Mahri and his wife and a single camel;
they slew the man and took the camel, but when they had
reached Manahil country they were caught by a large
raiding party of Bait Kathir and Mahra and their shaikh
was killed and they turned and fled in confusion, their
booty falling into the hands of Bin Tannaf .’ 1

1 Bin Tannaf is the hereditary title of the shaikh of the Manahil tribe.
The present holder is one of the most famous of leaders of the raid. The
leader has always the perquisite of two or three of the best camels taken,
otherwise there is equal division of the spoil as in i Samuel xxx. 25.

[ 2 35 ]

XVIII: THROUGH THE CENTRAL

SANDS

S uwahib lay behind us. Gone were the big bellying
waves of red sand with their white-ridged crests lit
up in the brilliant sunshine, gone the green pastures
of the early marches. In lat. 20° 44' a narrow rugged belt
was succeeded by a wide expanse of pale sands in the mood
of an ocean calm. Relief came here and there in patches of
withered hadh scrub, which recent strong southerly winds
had covered with a film of fine white sand. Otherwise the
scene was one of utter desolation, extending over a great
part of the central sands of Mazariq, Nuwasif and Munajjar,
making them a hungry void and an abode of death to
whoever should loiter there. Yet but four years before one
of my Murris had grazed herds in this region. In the verbal
extravagances so typical of the Badu, he told me these had
been the most blessed sands. But the circumstances were
illuminating; they explained why the secrets of poor,
precarious pastures or water should be so jealously guarded,
and why therefore suspicion is the desert man’s dominant
characteristic. To such climatic vicissitudes may well be
ascribed those early Arabian movements of hunger-driven
man, the Semitic invasion of Babylonia, the Canaanite
invasion of Syria, the Hyksos invasion of Egypt, and even
the Hebrew invasion of Palestine.

Animal life still persisted in these stricken wastes, indeed
by a curious chance two of my most interesting specimens
were obtained here, one a sand-coloured fox 1 scarcely bigger
than a cat, yet full-grown according to my Arabs and the
evidence of its teeth; it proved a new species, probably

1 The fox was called hirr, which is classical Arabic for ‘cat.’

[236]

ANIMAL LIFE IN THE DESERT

an Arabian variety of the Egyptian jennec\ the other find,
eagle’s eggs, discovered in a gigantic nest, like that of an
English rook, but much bigger, and roofing a solitary
leafless abala. The bird itself I did not see, but the eggs
have been found to resemble very closely those of the
Abyssinian tawny eagle. My Arabs regarded them as
unlawful for food, whereas bustard’s eggs are counted a
great delicacy amongst them. Bustard the size of young
turkeys were met at intervals throughout the southern
central sands and were innocently trusting if approached
under cover of a slow riderless camel and by a circuitous
closing in upon it, but for unfamiliar unaccompanied man
they showed a discriminating distrust, so that our many
halts in the hope of a meal produced only the back view of
birds in flight, and human disappointment over the
claw-marks left in the sand - a handsome Prince of Wales
feathers pattern. Bird life was scant in the sands, the fan-
tailed raven being the commonest and most widely dis-
tributed and next after him a tiny pied-wagtail-looking
creature. Generally the birds met were solitary, or at most
in pairs. Once I saw four bustard together and once six
ravens, but this was unusual.

My natural history collection 1 was made up mostly of
small insects, beetles, spiders, a few moths, butterflies, and
a single dragonfly; it included a new mantis and a new
locust.

The fox and the hare, both sand-coloured, were the
commonest mammals, particularly in the southern sands,
and there was a sand rat, wild cat and wolf, though un-

1 The specimens collected in the sands numbered one hundred and
twenty-five. Notes by members of the Staff of the British Museum (Natural
History) are given in Appendix II.

[ 2 37 ]

THROUGH THE CENTRAL SANDS

happily the last two eluded me. The wolf is said to be small
and sand-coloured, and to live chiefly in Suwahib, where it
can readily paw a hole to shallow water.

Among reptiles there were twelve varieties of lizards, all
alike endowed with pointed snouts for diving in the sands.
The most numerous sort was a skink, with a sand-coloured
square-sectioned body, and black markings along its sides.
Its smooth, shining, snake-like skin did not dissuade one
Arab from indulging a childish trick of putting the
wriggling tail and half its body into his mouth. The
biggest lizard was a monitor, much too strong and vicious
to be handled except by being picked up, like a snake,
behind the head. The monitor, unlike most of the big
lizards of the steppe, is not eaten by Badawin. On cutting
one open, I found a skink almost his own size within. The
scorpions of the sands were small and of pale green colour
in contrast to the big black-and-white varieties of the
mountains and steppes. Only three different snakes were
met with - all of a sand colour, boa, horned viper, and
colubrid.

The stimulus of promised rewards made my Arabs
enthusiastic workers for the Museum. Their reduced
numbers on this northward journey allowed me to get to
know them individually in a way that had been impossible
with my earlier and bigger parties. The Badu - unless
a religious bigot, in which case he is secretive and sullen -
can be a most pleasant companion if you will but simulate a
passion for saddle and rifle, praise the virtues of camels and
be cheerful. Distant at first, he will after a week or so
become, if cultivated, a cheerful fraterniser, and if there is
something he wants, ingratiating. His conversations, how-
ever, are liberally interspersed with the woes it has pleased

[238]

TYPICAL SANDS OF SANAM

BADAWIN COMPANIONSHIP

Allah to afflict him with - a stomach pain for certain.
‘Fever! there was none in the sands, thank God,’ and my
companions were incredulous of the infection by mosquito-
bite which evoked only a few and, I thought, insincere
expressions of ‘There is no god but God,’ the usual
exclamation when anything that astonishes is encountered.
But mosquitoes, Salih agreed, were a great nuisance at
Dhufar, so that his visit there had been a mixed pleasure,
for while he was used to flies innumerable around some
water-holes in the sands, it was only in Dhufar that he and
his camel spent nights of torment that made them glad to
turn about. Fleas and lice the sands have in plenty, and
whenever two of my Badawin found themselves unoccupied
at the halt, they would take part in a mutual flea-hunt, each
in turn lying face downwards on the sand, while his
companion sat by his head and scraped away with a dagger
in the long tousled locks.

‘You have found none in your baggage!’ one would say,
looking up at me. And then with pride, ‘These bags of straw
we use for pack-saddles do not attract them, whereas the
double-poled saddle of the Murra is their favourite haunt.’

I was ready to change the subject for a more pleasant
one, and found myself listening to a delectable Bani Hillal
entertainment.

Would I like to hear how it fared with that ill-starred
youth ’Aziz, son of his uncle ?

Yes I would.

Then he would tell me the story of the self-imposed
immolation of ’Aziz bin Khala to forward his father’s
amours.

‘Bu Zaid loved a girl named ’Aliya of a neighbouring
tribe. One day he set off on a visit to her, taking with him

[ 2 39 ]

THROUGH THE CENTRAL SANDS

‘Aziz, who had not yet seen her. And Bu Zaid described her
great beauties as they went along and said, “But you shall
know her, O ’Aziz! by this token. If she is sitting with
other women she will be taller than they; but if standing
she will be shorter than they.” And father and son came
to a well where women were drawing water, and ’Aliya was
in their midst; and ’Aziz beheld them first sitting over the
well and then rising to go away, so that he knew her. But
alas, for Bu Zaid, ’Aliya had been affianced by her male
relatives to another, and that very night was the nuptial
night, when her new husband would come to her. But
’Aliya was unhappy, for she loved Bu Zaid.

‘Now it was that ’Aziz dressed himself in her bridal
raiment and set her jewels upon his neck and arms and took
her place in the bridal bed, while she went out into the
wilderness to the place where Bu Zaid was and spent the
night in the embraces of her lover.

‘And the new husband came by night to ’Aliya’s chamber,
but whenever he drew near to his imagined bride, ’Aziz
turned a deaf ear, and a silent tongue to his entreaties, and
pushed him away. So the angry bridegroom betook himself
next morning to the ’Alim and explained his plight, adding,
“I am not sure in the darkness that it was ’Aliya, for I am
strong and never have I met anyone who could resist me
except ’Aziz bin Khala.”

‘And the ’Alim replied, “Go to her again to-night and
take with you a needle. And if you receive no better
accommodation, pluck a hair from her head and drive the
needle into the vein urq al akhal of her left thigh. If it
be ’Aliya or a woman she will live, but if a man he will die,
and by the hair you will know her.”

‘So the bridegroom came again that night to ’Aliya’s

[ 240 ]

THE LOVE OF BU ZAID FOR ’ALIYA

chamber, only however to meet with the same resistance,
and in his struggles he plucked a hair from ’Aziz’s head
and drove the needle into the vein of his loins, and so
departed.

‘Before the dawn, ’Aziz rose as was his wont and came
to his father’s place in the wilderness, and told him of what
had come to pass. And ’Aliya was affrighted, but Bu Zaid
plucked a hair from her head and drove a needle into her
thigh so that her husband might find the marks, and thus
not suspect her.

‘Bu Zaid and ’Aziz then mounted their camels and
departed, ’Aziz with the needle still in his thigh, for
whenever he should withdraw it, he must bleed to death.

‘And they came to a plain, and ’Aziz said to his father,
“Father, what is this place good for?”

‘Said Bu Zaid, “It is a place good for grazing camels.”

‘And they passed on and came to some other herbage,
and Aziz asked, “And what is this place fit for?” Bu Zaid
replied, “This, my son, is a place good for raising horses.”

‘Again they moved on and coming to a place of desola-
tion, ’Aziz asked, “And what, O father, is this fit for?”

‘And Bu Zaid answered, “It is a place meet only for a
graveyard.”

‘Said ’Aziz, “Let us dismount here and help me to dig a
grave.”

‘So Bu Zaid and ’Aziz dug a grave and ’Aziz withdrawing
the needle from his thigh died, and his father buried him.

‘Bu Zaid went on and came to his tents, and his sister,
the mother of ’Aziz, saw him a great way off, and alone; and
she ran out saying, “Where is ’Aziz? Where is ’Aziz?”

‘And Bu Zaid answered, “We have been raiding and
many camels have fallen into our hands, and I have come
Q [241]

THROUGH THE CENTRAL SANDS

on ahead bringing the good news, and ’Aziz follows with
the spoil.”

‘Some days went by, and the mother grew anxious; and
as more and more days passed and ’Aziz did not return, she
moped about the tents and wept for her son’s fate, nor would
she be comforted.

‘And Bu Zaid was sad at heart, and murmured to
himself:

‘ “Have come to thee, old dame, forebodings of evil?

For thou understandest our house
As the wolf knoweth where the flocks are gathered
for the night.”

‘And then aloud:

‘ “O my grief, if I should say he is dead, she dieth.

And if I should say he lives, I lie.”

‘And so Aziz’s mother knew that her son was dead.’

The story ended, the cry of the mu edhdhin brought my
entertainers to their feet and they went off to join the long
line of worshippers that habitually fell in behind Hamad
bin Hadi for common prayer.

An early start was made on the 19th January, our course
still north-west. The absence of grazing in our way and our
camels’ thirst from their recent saline pastures made for fast
marching. Leaving Umm Quraiyin on our right hand - a
reported water-hole that marked the northward limit of
Munajjar - we came to the sand region of Sanam, white and
rolling in a gentle swell. This region - the word itself
means camel’s hump - is conspicuous for the comparative
sweetness of its water-holes and their abnormal depth, 1 an

1 A crude pulley-block formed part of the Murri kit: its use is nowhere
necessary in the south.

[ 2 42 ]

PERILS OF THE WELL-SINKERS

average being eleven fathoms, and some there are of fifteen
and seventeen fathoms in the west.

The shallower wells of the southern sands are sometimes
filled in after watering to obstruct a possible pursuer. But
here the water-holes are roofed to protect them, for great
labour, skill and courage have gone in their making. Indeed,
the deep water-holes of Tuwal exact a toll of life for the soft
sides are prone to slip and entomb the miners, and all that
avails for revetment is the coiled branches of some wretched
bush of the sands. As we passed Safif, a Murri turned to me.
‘Four of my brothers’ (i.e. Murra tribesmen) ‘lie in the
bottom there. Two of them had descended to clean it out
and were overwhelmed by slipping sand, and their com-
panions, following to rescue them, were engulfed too.
Safif is a tomb; we have abandoned it.’

The fasting month of Ramadhan was upon us. No
crescent moon had been seen on the morning of 20th
January, so hopes were set upon the evening. We halted in
good time, all eyes towards the western sky in the wake of
the setting sun. The first appearance of the Ramadhan
moon excites intense eagerness on the part of the Faithful,
and in Oman its entry and exit are accompanied by the
booming of more than a monarch’s salute. This evening
disappointment was in store for us. The saffron sky turned
to slaty grey and then to darkness, but there was no moon;
to-morrow my companions would not be glorifying God in
the Fast.

Farajja, our next water-hole, lay a nine and a half hours’
march distant, and we were obliged to make it because our
water-skins were empty. We were thus still in the saddle
when just after sunset rifle shots rang out from ahead, and a
faint wisp of the crescent moon showed in the pale sky.

[ 2 43 ]

THROUGH THE CENTRAL SANDS

With cries of ‘Glory to God,’ my companions couched their
camels and prostrated themselves in prayer, one or two of
them first sticking their rifles barrel downwards into the
sands. Our course had veered due west in the track of
our advance party and thus continued until after dark, when
the flare of a distant camp-fire was the beacon for our night’s
halting-place. My companions being on a journey had a
right to break or postpone fasting till they regained their
homes, but none elected to do so. They all fasted 1 on the
march, as my Bait Kathiris had done at Mugshin a year
before. Hitherto they had availed themselves of the prayer
concession of the march, running the five occasions into
three, but now in Ramadhan they observed the entire
number. Scarcely in keeping with this increased religious
zeal was the change in the food regime. Dinner had
formerly followed the joint evening prayer, now it followed
the sunset Credo of the mu edhdhin and was sandwiched
between it and the prayer that normally would follow.

Scouts for pastures may postpone the Ramadhan fast, but
the rule for the raider is different. He may enjoy the
concession only on the return from the raid; during the
approach and the attack he must fast.

The sand tribes have also a peculiar marital observance.
In Ramadhan sexual relations are only permissible if
ablution can follow, that is, when near or carrying water.

At other times of the year the religious injunction

1 The Sa’ar, according to the Rashidis — perhaps a tainted source in view
of their relationship — neither pray nor fast. And they mock a Rashidi
visitor (in times of peace) who does so, though they swear by Allah and
claim to believe in Him. ‘They say, God is the Knower! that their ancestor
saved the Prophet from the hands of infidels who were intent on slaying
him, and the Prophet granted to him and his heirs exemption from prayer
observances. They say so! May God forgive them!’

[ 2 44 ]

THE CALENDAR OF THE SANDS

regarding this greater ablution is disregarded. When they
are away from water, sand is used before prayer, but nothing
after the sexual act. It thus comes about that while there is
no rule against marriage in Ramadhan such marriages in
the sands are rare, if not unheard of.

The months of the desert are lunar months, but known
by names not always according with the usual Muslim
calendar. 1 The word Muharram, for instance, is never used
by them, and they reckon the year, so far as they date it at
all, from the Fast month or the Pilgrimage month.

Here in lat. 2i° 30' the sands of Sanam must be shallow-
ing because for the first time the hard flat floor emerged in
circular patches from the sands.

One of my Badawin found and brought me some
potsherds and bits of broken old dull glass from the surface
of one such place. I looked but could see no trace of an
artificial mound, but only apparently natural undulations,
and I was incredulous that the region could have had any
considerable settlement, 2 preferring the theory that dibbis -
syrup of dates - had been brought out here in pots from
Hasa, for some bygone Ramadhan, perhaps, before the
kerosene tin became the common receptacle of Arabia.
The possibility of archaeological remains in Sanam should
not, on the other hand, be ruled out. The Murra indeed

1 The months of the Arabs of the sands are: Ramadhan; Id Fitr al Awwal;
Id Fitr al Thani; Arafa (pilgrimage month); Ashur (or the month of
Zakat); Sifr; Tom al Awwal; Tom al Thani; Tom al Thalith; Mithalil
(sometimes Tom al ’Urba), called Tuwam; Rijeb; Ousaiyir. Qusaiyir and
Mithalil are held to be unpropitious months for the raid or a journey.
Ramadhan also unless a start has already been made.

2 Salwa, Iskak and Mabak, ancient sites in the base of the Qatar peninsula
are ascribed to Fmvaris, that is, the Persians. They are now in Ikhwan
hands, and for this reason I could not explore them.

[ 2 45 ]

THROUGH THE CENTRAL SANDS

have a tradition of the foundations of a fort once to be seen
but now covered over by sand. Umm al Hadid, a water-
hole, is also said to have a tradition of remains - two large
blocks of so-called ironstone - whence its name. These,
however, may have been meteorites.

I had collected a fragment of black meteorite in the
Buwah region of Suwahib. It was found lying on the sands
as we passed, the Badu who picked it up calling it an ‘iron
stone’ presumably on account of its great weight. Its nature
proved difficult to establish at first on account of its irregular
shape and sharp angles for the meteorite is commonly a
rounded stone, sometimes pitted with holes. My Buwah
specimen is thought to be part of a much larger meteorite
which burst into pieces on its passage through the
atmosphere . 1

At Farajja 2 our camels were taken off to water in the
forenoon, and this provided me with an opportunity of
collecting data for my map - the names and direction and
distance of sands and water-holes that must be recorded as
we went along and worked out by a process of arithmetical
triangulation. But Badawin are apt to fret under too close
and long cross-questioning and the most profitable informa-
tion is obtained when -the Arab can be encouraged to
discourse. The occasion was one for a story too - the tale
of Bu Zaid and his two brothers Yusif and Baraiga and their
encounter with a Jinn. It ran in this wise :

‘One day Bu Zaid, Yusif and Baraiga set out on a
journey and at night they halted at a habitation where was
a man and his mother and their sheep. And the man

1 A description is given in a Note by Mr. Campbell Smith (Appendix II).

2 Farajja, named after its digger Faraj, a Murri, who is said also to have
dug Shanna.

[ 246 ]

THE BU Z A I D TRIO AND A JINN

said to them, “I would fain come with you on your
journey.”

‘ “No,” they answered, “you are not equal to the feats
which are likely to be demanded of us on our way, else we
would take you.”

‘And the man, wishing to show what manner of man he
was, walked over to an acacia tree close by and seizing it by
the trunk in his two arms uprooted it as though it had been
a tamarisk, and hurled it to one side, saying, “Yet am I
strong ?”

‘So it was decided that he should accompany them and
the four set forth. And they came to a place where they
met a young girl and she was leading a ram and carrying
on her head a dish of rice that was drenched with melted
butter. The girl was the daughter of the governor of a
town close at hand. And they asked her where she was
going. Said she, “I am going as an offering to the Jinn in
yonder wadi, for the town is under sacrifice, and a virgin, a
ram and a dish of rice must be brought to the Jinn each
evening; and if these are not forthcoming the Jinn will
destroy the town.

‘Now Bu Zaid and his companions were famished, and
the smell of the savoury dish increased their hunger, so they
said to the young girl, “But we want our supper. Give us
the ram to slaughter and the rice to eat, and we will attend
to the Jinn and ensure that no evil befalls the town.”

‘And she answered, “The Jinn will surely dry up the
water and my father’s people will perish.”

‘But they paid no heed to her words, and taking the ram
they slaughtered it and cooked and ate it. Then they
turned their thoughts to the Jinn; and they divided the night
into four watches, that each of them should in turn go and

[ 2 47 ]

THROUGH THE CENTRAL SANDS

occupy the haunt of the Jinn for an equal space of
time.

‘The first watch was given to the strong man who had
uprooted the ghaj by the wayside. And so he went, but as
he approached the Jinn, which was in the form of a huge
serpent, it cried out, “Oh ha! you who bring my dinner -
first the ram!” And the man, full of fear, fled, and returned
to the three brothers, Bu Zaid, Yusif and Baraiga, saying,
“Surely the Jinn will eat you up,” and he ran off and was
seen no more.

‘Next went forth Yusif with sword, buckler and stick.
And the Jinn, hearing someone approach, opened its great
mouth, and Yusif making the form of a cross with his sword
and stick passed through the buckler handle for a centre,
jabbed it into the Jinn’s mouth so that the sword stood on
its tongue and reached to the roof of its mouth, and the
stick lodged between its two jaws, and the Jinn could not
close its mouth, or indeed do anything. Thus Yusif spent
the whole of his watch until it was time for his relief, when
he withdrew his weapons and departed to the side of his
brethren.

‘Then went forth Baraiga, and Baraiga’s skin was so
white that he had only to take off all his clothing to become
transparent. Thus the Jinn was unable to see him, and
spent its time vainly groping about for its prey, and while
doing so it bumped its head against a stone, so that one of
its eyes was struck out. And thus the third watch was kept.

‘Last of all came Bu Zaid, and approaching the Jinn
boldly he said, “Close your other eye, stretch forth your
neck, and open your mouth that I may enter it for your
dinner,” and the Jinn did so, and Bu Zaid drew his sword
and striking at its neck slew it. Then bending down he

[ 248 ]

BU ZAID AND THE JINN

wetted the palm of his hand in the Jinn’s blood and ran at
great speed to the Governor’s Fort in the town, and he
leapt from the ground almost to the roof and struck his
bloody palm against the wall above the doorway, leaving the
mark of the Jinn’s blood there. Then he returned to his
two brothers and the Governor’s daughter in the wilderness.

‘And when the morning came the people of the town saw
the stream of the Jinn’s red blood, and the bloody mark of
a man’s hand on the fort walls high above the doorway. And
the Governor called all the people together to discover who
had killed the Jinn, saying, “W' allahil he who has killed the
Jinn shall be governor, and I will hand the fort over to him.”

‘And there were many present that answered, “I did it,”
and “I did it.”

‘He answered them saying, “Come then, leap up and
touch the place of blood above the portal.”

‘But none could do so.

‘Baraiga and Yusif now came into the town to see what
manner of place it was, for they had left Bu Zaid with the
young girl and the camels in the wilderness.

‘And the Governor, hearing of the arrival of strangers,
commanded that Baraiga and Yusif should be brought
before him. And he said to them, “The town has been
under bondage to a Jinn, and now it is delivered and no
more have we to sacrifice a girl and a ram and a dish of
rice. Now which of you brought deliverance? Tell me,
for he shall be governor in my room.”

‘They replied, “We do not know.”

‘But the Governor did not believe them, and he said,
“You must both leap as high as you can for me to see which
of you it was.”

‘Then they did as he bade them, but their hands reached

[ 249 ]

THROUGH THE CENTRAL SANDS

to a point that fell far short of the bloody hand on the fort
wall, so the Governor knew it was not one of them. He
turned to them again and said, “And where is the rest of
your party ?”

‘And they, fearing evil consequences, said, “We have only
a slave” (a part that came easy to Bu Zaid on account of his
black colour) - “and he is outside the town with our camels.”

‘The Governor replied, “I shall detain you till I have seen
him.” Then he ordered a camel and a slave girl to go out
and bring in Bu Zaid. And he said to her, “When you
arrive where he is, tell him to mount behind you. If he is
a slave he will, but if he is a. free man, he will surely desire
to come to this place riding in front and will put you
behind him.”

‘So the slave girl set forth on the camel and came to the
wilderness where Bu Zaid was, and she said, “I am a
messenger from the Governor, and he requires your
presence before him at once, and you are to ride back with
me upon this camel,” and she motioned him to his place
behind her. But he brushed her aside and sat her behind
him and thus they came to the fort of the Governor and
dismounted.

‘Then said the Governor to Bu Zaid, “Jump, O slave,
and place your hand against the bloody hand above the
doorway.” Bu Zaid replied, “I am a slave, how can I ? I
can do nothing.”

‘ “Jump,” said the Governor, “you must.” So then Bu
Zaid leapt into the air, and his hand reached higher than
the mark of the Jinn’s blood he had left there overnight.
So the Governor and all the people knew that it was he who
had slain the Jinn.

‘The Governor now turned to the people and said, “It

C 2 5° 1

BU ZAID AND THE SLAVE GIRL

is meet that the man who delivered you should be your
governor,” and then to Bu Zaid, “This fort is yours!”

‘But Bu Zaid answered and said, “I want neither riches
nor power, give me leave to go about my pleasure.”

‘And so they gave to him of treasure and horses and
rizk Allah - the bounty of God - and he departed with his
brethren in the fullness of joy.’

Before the story was ended our camels, coming back from
water, appeared across the sands. Hamad and I walked out
to meet them. As we went we crossed many recent camel
tracks which showed Farajja to be a popular water-hole.
The grouped tracks of four camels walking in line arrested
my companion’s attention, and he turned to me and asked
me in play which camel I saw in the sands to be best. I
pointed - pardonably, I persuaded myself - to the wrong
one. ‘There,’ he said, ‘do you see that cuffing up of the
toes? It is a good sign: but not that skidding,’ pointing to
mine, ‘between the footmarks.’ ‘That,’ he said of the third,
‘is an animal that has recently been in the steppe. Do you
see the rugged impressions of her feet ? Camels that have
long been in the sands leave smooth impressions, and that’
(pointing to the fourth) ‘is her baby. Your camel is big with
young - see the deep impressions of her small hind feet.’
And thus and thus. It was not the least important part of
Hamad’s lore — a lore shared by nearly every dweller of the
sands in varying degree - to read the condition of the
strange camel, as yet unseen, from her marks, and hence to
know whether to flee or to pursue.

Tracking in Arabia is an exact science, beside which the
finger-print methods of the West are limited in scope, for
the sands are a perfect medium.

[251]

THROUGH THE CENTRAL SANDS

In the more sophisticated parts of the peninsula - Oman,
for example, a Court of Justice acts upon a foot-tracker’s
evidence, though there the qajfar , as he is called, has gifts
not possessed, as in the sands, by the world at large. A case
occurred during my service in Muscat. A Chinaman who
had come to buy pearls and sea-slugs was murdered one
night while he slept on the roof of his house in the Muscat
bazaar. The murderer had apparently been surprised in the
act, for he had jumped from the roof (it was a single-storey
building) in his flight. The imprint of his foot remained
in the lane beneath. On discovery next morning a pot was
placed over it, sentries were posted at either end of the lane
to prevent people passing that way, and a famous foot-
tracker sent for, from up country. Meanwhile the days
passed and the town grew nervous, for the murder had been
a particularly brutal one - the neck had been cut with a sharp
dagger from ear to ear - and the murderer was still at large.

The foot-tracker arrived and visited the footprint two or
three times, on each occasion spending some minutes down
on his hands and knees over it, as though to memorise it.

The next day the Council ordered that every male in the
town must pass for inspection by the qajfar; quarter by
quarter sent their tale of men. Some days had thus passed,
till at last the qajfar gave the sign.

It was a young man in his twenties, an African slave,
indeed a Court slave, and therefore not a safe person to
charge in error. He was immediately arrested and sent to
the Prison Fort, where, charged with the crime, he flatly
denied all knowledge of it, and affirmed his innocence.

The clothes he was supposed to have been wearing were
sent to the Public Analyst in Bombay and no blood-stains
were found, but other circumstantial evidence supported

[ 2 S 2 ]

THE CULPRIT DETECTED

the foot-tracker. The slave was a notorious character; he
was the sole occupant of the next house, so that he could
have kept a careful watch on the movements of his intended
victim; he could also have jumped easily from his upstairs
veranda on to the roof where the murder took place, but
he could not have jumped back.

The Indian apothecary looked at the foot-impression
too. There in the middle was an edge of splintered stone,
and his opinion was that the man who had dropped from
the roof on to the stone must have a slight cut in the sole of
his right foot.

The prisoner was brought before me and I asked him to
show me the bottom of his foot. He lifted the left one
promptly. Examination of the right foot showed the cut
mark there, and my head callipers confirmed that the
position of it corresponded exactly with the position of the
splintered stone in the foot impression. The slave suffered
the prescribed penalty in public at the hands of a firing
squad. The foot-tracker had not read the marks in vain.

And now, six months later, in the centre of Rub’ al Khali
I was enjoying serener moments studying the tracks of the
smaller animals. To a Badu, their simple story is immedi-
ately intelligible. For a European they have another appeal,
the charm of graceful line or subtle invention; the sweep of
drooping gash in the wind makes a tiny picture of the
prayer-ring the Badu sweeps with his cane towards the
setting sun; the straight stride of birds’ claws spaced one
immediately before the other, a contrast with the earthy
meanderings of some small quadruped; the neat little
rosette pattern of a rat leads to a thicket, where you will
find its tiny hole, a heap of newly turned red sand at the
entrance; the crooked but beautiful intricacies of a lizard like

[ 2 53 ]

THROUGH THE CENTRAL SANDS

a miniature arabesque lead to a sprig of herbage where it
has played maypole and rolled over in joyous repletion; that
futuristic riot marks the fallen twigs bowled over and over
by the whims of the wind.

The morrow was intensely cold. Our course at first due
east obliquely across the strong north wind, then turned into
the face of it, and I was glad of my greatcoat. A large hawk,
the first I had seen in the sands, circled about our heads to
sail swiftly down wind as we passed an encampment of
Murra with some fifty black camels. The great camel herds
of the Murra are said to be mostly black , 1 whence the tents
of the sands are generally of that colour, in sharp contrast
with the colour of the wild animals of the sands, particularly
the mammals, which is that of their environment.

We made a wide detour to avoid these Murra. They
were ostensibly a friendly section, but it was declared unwise
that I be seen or heard of, lest news of me get ahead with
mischievous results.

Shaikh Salih as he rode at my side shivered, but would
not bemoan the cold, lest he affront the Almighty, the All
Knowing, who had sent it. I told Salih of the cold of an
English winter.

‘Do you hear that ?’ - he turned to Mubarak. ‘In the
Wazir’s country the water that is cut off from the sea’ (a
pond) ‘becomes solid with the cold so that the Arabs and
horses and donkeys can walk upon it.’

‘There is no god but God,’ returned Mubarak, and I

1 A herd of camels is called jaish by Murra, nishera by the Rashid, and
bosh by Oman tribes. The Badawin of the sands have five colours in camels:
white, red, black, yellow, green. These are the dictionary equivalents. In
reality: white=fawny cream colour; red = gazelle colour; black ==a black-
brown colour; yellow = between fawny cream and gazelle colour; green=a
dark wood-smoke colour.

[ 2 54 ]

SANDSTORMS IN UB AIL A

detected in his expression a fear lest I be the advance guard
of a party of invaders, anxious to forsake such misery for
their own delectable sands.

Long hungry hours in the saddle and the cold north wind
made life at this stage uncomfortable, the night temperature
falling to 40° F., and having no tent or other overhead
covering, I found it necessary to sleep in all my clothes
plus three blankets.

On 22nd January in the red rolling sand-hills of Ubaila
we met the first of a series of sandstorms. We were sitting
round the camp-fire after the evening meal. Two nights
before there had been a heavy dew, our first since leaving
the Qara Mountains. To-night a cold wind from the north
was blowing, but nothing presaged a coming storm.
Suddenly the flames swept this way and that as though the
wind blew from everywhere in turn. We all covered our
faces with our hands to save our eyes from the smoke. My
companions leapt up and rushed off in the darkness to
bring in their grazing camels, for the sandstorm is one of
their worst enemies. The storm grew fiercer; the Badawin,
with their poor mantles wrapped round them, huddled
together for warmth.

I slept fitfully. The hissing of the sand-laden wind, the
rattling of my camp cordage and the cold of my feet made
sleep impossible. When my face was exposed the gritty
blast struck it with the sharpness of a knife. The tempera-
ture fell to 37 0 F. dry, 35 0 F. wet. I dozed off just before
dawn and woke soon after to find my saddle and baggage
embedded in driven sand. The wind had dropped and
round the camp-fires clustered huddled and shivering
Badawin. Soon they were rousing their camels that had
been rounded up overnight for safety, and the wretched

[ 255 ]

THROUGH THE CENTRAL SANDS

beasts shuffled, shivering, away to feed and to feel the
warmth of the rising sun.

To me the night had disastrous results. The sand had
got into some of my instruments. My small cinema camera
was out of action, and my two aneroids no longer tallied, so
that I was obliged thereafter to record two different read-
ings, not knowing which, if either, was right till the end of
the journey.

‘I bring you good tidings of the shamal\ I bring you good
tidings of the shamalY shouted a young Badu next morning
in ironical reference to the bitter north wind, the tempera-
ture standing within 5 0 F. of freezing-point.

‘But for the north wind
There would be no increase,’

retorted Shaikh Salih, quoting a desert rhyme upon the
wind’s stimulus to the bull-camel.

The rolling reds of Ubaila had given place again to the
more typical white open spaces of Sanam as we approached
the water-hole of Jahaishi. A chill depressing day with the
plain a white smoke-screen that swept towards us and past
us filming our camels’ feet, the wind had stung my poor
companions, who, muffled up in their scanty garments, sat
shivering as we rode along.

‘Couch her, Sahib! Couch Agaba,’ they cried, ‘it is the
hour of the midday prayer.’ Here beside the abandoned
water-hole of Duwairis were firewood and a little grazing,
and I realised we were halting for the day. Sand filled my
eyes, and my note-books; sand was everywhere; note-taking
with numbed fingers was impossible, and all that could be
done was to sit idly in the swirl of sand and cold discomfort,
and wish for a lull.

[256]

THE HOMING INSTINCT OF CAMELS

The Badawin collected brushwood from the thickets and
piled it in a strong hedge twenty yards long. It was gadha ,
a considerable bush which we here met for the first time.
Behind this shelter the camels were couched huddled to-
gether, only a few hardy brutes electing to stand and graze.
Later in the day when the sun made itself felt and the wind
dropped a little, they hobbled off to some near pastures,
but when the wind again rose they were promptly brought
back, their masters fearing to lose them, if left out, for the
wind immediately effaced all tracks.

The homing instinct of the camel - if the absence of an
established home does not make the term a paradox — is
amazing. Her fixed idea apparently is to regain the fat
pastures and main herds she has just left. During the
preoccupations of marching, she may forget, but when a
halt is called and she is turned out to graze unfettered, she
will wander back alone the way she has come. Her master
means nothing to her. She has no affection for him and
never learns to know more of him than the sound of his
voice. Yet she is utterly dependent upon him for her
watering, being powerless to fend for herself even at the
shallowest water-hole. She is excessively stupid except for
an uncanny sense of direction, but is none the less * Ata
Y\ Allah! — the Gift of God - in his eyes.

‘If you leave Agaba 1 to herself,’ said Shaikh Salih, ‘she
will go off across the sands directly under that star back to

1 Every camel has an individual name by which she is known to her
master, but a disinterested party will know her by one of nine names,
according to her age: first to seventh month, Huwar (suckling); seventh
month to second year, Inferid (i.e. is fending for itself); second year, Bint al
Bun or Weled al Bun; third year, Madhriba (may be covered by bull);
fourth year, Yadha (able to calve); fifth year, Thiniya; sixth year, Raba;
seventh year, Sidis; eighth year. Shag al Naga or Nufi.

R [ 2 57 ]

THROUGH THE CENTRAL SANDS

Dakaka and her companions, though she has never come
this way before.’

‘But how will she fare for water?’

‘She will wander back without water and arrive safely in
the winter time, but in summer she will perish of thirst
before a quarter of the way.’

Our march during the past two days had afforded an
instance of this. A strange camel, a cow big with calf, 1 had
joined our party, or rather led the way, for she bounced
along ahead of us, making straight for Qatar where her
camel brand showed her to belong. She was presumably
anxious for dates or sardines, the local delicacies she
missed in the sands; lucky for her that the season was
winter!

‘Do not let your camel eat of this gadhaj shouted a Murri
next day as we passed through a verdant plain of it; ‘it is
jinn haunted.’

‘But only these gadha pastures of A1 Hirra and Banaiyan,’
explained Hamad to me, ‘elsewhere it is good enough
fodder. Here five camels died in one night, and on another
occasion two became ill and their milk dried up.’

I had also found this idea, that jinns could affect the
wholesomeness of vegetation, at Mugshin, where it caused
a magnificent grove of acacias to be largely neglected. My
Badawin’s invariable habit of picking the juiciest herbage
for hand-feeding their camels was there suspended, nor

1 A cow in calf is known as midini (Rashid) al algaha (Murri). The
period of gestation is twelve months. She may go thirteen months, or
sometimes eleven, but in the latter case the calf seldom survives. Where it
does it is called saham, the mother jaret. The cow calf, as yet uncovered
by a bull, is a bakra. The Murra call a bull and cow calf ga'ud and hasht
respectively.

[258]

KHIYUT AL BUR A I DAN

would they shoot the hares of this grove for the pot . 1 The
Kathiris had another strange belief, that a camel hand-fed
at Mugshin instead of grazing for itself would suffer
misfortune.

The famous water-hole of Banaiyan lay but a day’s march
ahead. An hour and a half after leaving our overnight’s
hadh pastures, we breasted the red sand-hills of Khiyut al
Buraidan that marked the northern border of Sanam. The
wind had dropped and the pure smooth surface of the rosy
sand-hills - here called Hamarur - was in refreshing contrast
to the white smoking plains of the recent marches. Patches
of vivid green haram lined the gravelly troughs in the
sand-hills and our hungry camels occasionally snatched at a
tuft as we passed, though without encouragement, for haram
is a saline feed which does no good to the animal not used
to it. ‘Now the Manasir,’ said a Badu with a sweep of his
arm to the eastwards, ‘have little else and their camels are
reared on it and grow humps like this’ - here he caught the
elbow of one arm held out before him, the forearm bent
upwards on the palm of the other hand - a favourite
gesture to indicate a large hump and therefore a thriving
animal.

Rare ridges of red sand in the plain, long and low, and
patches of gadha growing out of elephant-mask accretions
of sand about their roots, formed an area called Qadha
Za’aza and brought us to more rolling red hills. In the
midst of these we halted over the water-hole of Banaiyan.
The caravan had dragged out, as all tired caravans do.
Ramadhan was telling on the men, the saline pastures on

1 A curious taboo peculiar to the Manasir tribe is that they will not eat
hare or any other animal that has been shot in the head, i.e. presumably
if its brains have been disturbed.

[ 2 59 3

THROUGH THE CENTRAL SANDS

the camels, and the long marches and cold north wind on
both. Hamad and I were the first arrivals.

‘Drink, Sahib,’ he said, ‘the water of Banaiyan is good.’

Hamad, even had it not been the fast month, would
himself have forborne. It was their code after a thirsty
day’s march that when we arrived at a water-hole no drop
of water should pass the lips of the advance party until
those in the rear had come up, nor would any man eat a
crust with me on the march unless his companions were
there to share it. If this precarious condition of life produces
savagery between enemies, it breeds none the less a fine
humanity among friends.

Banaiyan was a real well, stone-lined and therefore unlike
the mere pits in the sand that are the water-holes of the
south. As my party straggled in there was a visible change
in their mood. Cheerfulness prevailed with the merry
shouts and noise of spilling water that they love to
make, while their great thirsty brutes with long necks
stretched down to the scooped-out water trough gurgled
their fill.

The want of pastures forbade a halt in these barren,
rolling hills, and the first animals to be watered were already
on the march before the last had come up. I delayed to
accompany the rear party. Soon we had to halt for the
sunset prayer, and after that we found growing difficulty in
following the tracks of our advance guard; the failing light
soon made it impossible. So with Polaris before our left
shoulder - as the Badu has it, with his hand over his
corresponding collar-bone so that you shall not err -we
made our way through the night. An hour had passed
when there was a shout from a man behind me. Turning,
I saw the glimmer of a camp fire away to the eastwards. We

[ 260 ]

BANAIYAN

turned and made camp at seven o’clock. I was thoroughly
exhausted after ten and a half hours in the saddle, but
comfort came from the realisation that the great central
wastes of Rub’ al Khali lay behind me, the sea was but
eighty miles to the northward, success was in sight.

[ 261 ]

i

XIX: AT BANAIYAN: A RETROSPECT

A t Banaiyan I had reached the northward fringe of
Ar Rimal. 1 It is a convenient point, therefore, at
which to suspend the narrative for a brief chapter
to consider in retrospect the shape and structure of the land;
its nomenclature, and the sociological aspects of the life of
its inhabitants, as revealed by my journeyings.

Arabia is divided geologically by the Rub’ al Khali. To
the west the preponderating mass of the peninsula is
geologically part of the African continent, from which it is
separated only by the depressed zone or rift valley of the
Red Sea. It has been elevated to a height of several
thousand feet, carrying marine rocks to the highest eleva-
tion, but within itself has not suffered much dislocation;
even the volcanic rocks in the north were ejected without
much force, so that no volcanic peaks were formed. On
the whole therefore the country has remained relatively
undisturbed during the vast spaces of geological time.

The eastern zone, that is, the massif of Oman, on the other
hand, forms part of the Persian system of intensively folded
mountains caused by pressure from the north against the
more stable mass of Arabia Proper, at a time when active
earth movements were forming the great ranges of south
Persia and northern India. 2

1 In this longitude 51 0 E., Banaiyan is regarded as the northward limit of
Ar Rimal. To the eastwards the sands continue northwards through the
regions of Batin, Liwa, Qufa and Bainuna to the shores of the Persian Gulf:
to the westwards they continue through Jaub and Jafura to Hasa (see Map).
But in the mouth of the true son of the sands these regions are not Ar Rimal.

2 The reader interested in the subject is referred to ‘The Geology and
Tectonics of Oman and of Parts of South-Eastern Arabia’ (Quart. Journ.
Geol. Soc., 1928), by Dr. G. M. Lees, to whom I make acknowledgments

[262]

t

GEOLOGICAL STRUCTURE

Dhufar, the starting-point of my journey, lends itself to
the study of the geological structure of much of the
Arabian plateau. Along the seashore are exposed granites
and other crystalline rocks which form the massive base-
ment of the peninsula. They are overlaid by red sandstones
which form the lower slopes of Jabal Qara, probably like the
Nubian sandstone found in Egypt, Sinai and Trans-Jordan,
and over that again, represented by the high cliffs of Jabal
Qara, are limestones of the Upper Cretaceous and Eocene
Ages, but the southern face is in reality an escarpment
forming the edge of the high sandstone plateau which
slopes gently down to the edge of the sands where I found
my Eocene fossils.

The great belt of sands lying to the northward for three
hundred miles and more did not yield any indication of age,
though the sand specimens 1 I brought back from the centre
contain grains of pink and white limestone, indicating
perhaps that the sand has not travelled from a great distance;
otherwise they would have disappeared from the friction of
the harder quartz.

Along the northern sand fringe to the north of Banaiyan
I again found sea fossils of the same age as those in the south,
but it is impossible to say from my single traverse whether
the Eocene Sea once extended all the way across from
Qatar to Dhufar, to be covered later with blown sands from
the north-east, or whether the points approximately one
hundred miles inland on both sides of the Rub’ al Khali
where I picked up fossils represent the northern and
southern limits of invasion of the Eocene Sea.

It is possible that the basic floor of Ar Rimal is of some
limestone formation, probably of Eocene or Cretaceous age,

1 A list of sand specimens with analyses is given in Appendix II.

[ 2 63 ]

AT BAN AI Y AN: A RETROSPECT

with exposures of the Nubian sandstone from which the
blown sands have been formed.

The Rub’ al Khali has been shown to be a zone of
depression between high Nejd to the west and the Oman
Mountains to the east, a depression that probably occurred
at the time of the elevation of Oman - that is during the
Upper Cretaceous and the Tertiary periods.

Of much interest, if of a negative kind, was the gentle
character of the topography along my line of march - the
general absence of any considerable folding to give rise to
prominent features. Just over the Qara Mountains the
steppe began roughly at an altitude of 2000 feet, and it
sloped gently to 1100 feet at the edge of the sands, making
a fall of only 900 feet in 100 miles. So also from this
southern edge of the sands at 1100 feet to the northern edge
at Banaiyan, 200 feet, the fall is but 900 feet in nearly
300 miles. Northwards of Banaiyan the same gentle slope
is maintained towards the sea.

In describing the sands proper, 1 I have already noted
that their greatest elevations, the dune country, lie along
the southern fringe and swing north, according to Arab
report, in about long. 49 0 and again in long. 53 °.

The extension of these wings would approximately

1 A resume of the belts of main sand-shape I encountered from south to
north is as follows:

Miles.

I. High, red, dune country ...... 20

II. Elevated, less rugged, red sands, with horse-shoe hills . 40

III. Parallel white ridges with intervening red valleys . . 100

IV. Flat or gently undulating white sands . . . 70

V. Flat or gently undulating white sands, with transverse red

hills ......... 50

VI. Steppe, salt plain, and red hills alternating . . 100

[ 264 ]

VEGETATION

trisect Ar Rimal, and a reference to the map will show that
it was through the middle section that my route lay.

The belief that the sands would prove waterless has been
shown to be unfounded. Water, though very brackish, is
found at any rate eastward of 5 1 ° E. 1 Indeed, throughout
the middle regions in the low sands of eastern Suwahib and
elsewhere, there seems to be abundant sub-soil water, but
so saline as to be generally undrinkable by man. Such
water-holes do not enjoy distinguishing names but are, as
already stated, labelled generically khiran. Elsewhere, a
water-hole which a camel or man will drink from enjoys a
distinguishing name, often that of its digger; when necessary
the camel plays the part of a distillery. She drinks the water
and man drinks her milk.

So also the vegetation lay in zones from south to north:

Belt.

V egetation*

Latitude

From To

Altitude
From To

i Zahar \

- Barkan -
( Abala^ J

ft.

ft-

I. II.

00

0

00

0^

20° 30'

1100

550

III., IV., V.

Hadh

20° 00'

23° oo'

600

250

V., VI.

Gadha

22° 40'

24 0 OO'

275

125

VI.

Shinan

23° 12'

2 4° 30'

200

S.L.

Lesser herbage was Gaits and Haram in the red sands of I., II., V., VI.

* Zahar ( Tribulus alatris , Del.).

HadhfSalsola sp.).

Shinan [Arthrocnemum glaucum, Ung.).
f Abala is the most considerable growth of the sands and by far the
most useful. The framework of the camel saddle and tent

utensils are made from this wood; it is also excellent firewood,
unlike Hadh and Shinan.

1 A chemical analysis of the contents of every water-hole I used is
given in Appendix II.

[ 26 5 ]

AT BANAIYAN: A RETROSPECT

The sweetest water lay on the westernmost points of my
route in western Dakaka and Sanam, where the water-holes
were as deep as thirteen fathoms and upwards, but the yield
is said to be uncertain. Indeed sometimes, as with Turaiga,
they dry up. The most brackish water lay on the eastern-
most portions of my route, where it was shallow, as at
Buwah, and the supply was apparently inexhaustible; this
evidence would seem to support Arab information that the
great sands rising towards the west and south-west are
entirely waterless.

The regional names of the sands derive very often from
some topographical feature , 1 or from some peculiarity of
water or vegetation, or now and then from some association
with camels.

The mode of human life in Rub’ al Khali - the only life
that short-lived pastures and inadequate or brackish water
permit -is tribal and nomadic, a life economically precarious,
politically unstable, but socially fixed and unalterable.

1 Mention has already been made in this sense of these categories of
Dakaka, Suwahib and Sanam. So also are:

Buwah, plural of Bah., a shallow dipping-hole.

Munajjar from Min j or, where a water-hole has to be bored through
hard rock.

Hadh al (Ga’ada), a region where hadh vegetation is predominant.
Khila(t AjmanJ, a region where hadh vegetation is not found.

Umm Matlissa — ‘mother of smoothness,’ a region in which neither
hadh nor zahar grows.

Jaub, a wadi-like depression in sands — region Banaiyan-Jabrin.

Jiban, plural of Jaub.

Jafura from Jifr— a deep hole.

Shuwaikila — ‘strings of the udder bag’ -hence two flanking areas of
Huwaiya.

Tuwal — ‘length’ - abnormally deep water-holes of western Sanam.
Aqal — ‘camel hobble’ — the half-fathom holes of eastern Tiban.

[ 266 ]

DESERT ECONOMY

The prosperity of the tribe is measured by the number
and condition of its camels. The sources of wealth are good
pastures and the manly prowess of its members who will
aggressively acquire fresh camels at their enemies’ expense.

Camels therefore fall into two classes, herds of milch
camels (the assets and reserve) and the less numerous riding
camels (working capital). The first may be worth one
hundred dollars each, the second from two hundred to four
hundred for an exceptional animal. The milch camel never
knows a saddle, and is raised solely for breeding and to
produce milk and wool. The female is therefore the valued
sex, and the cow calf is always reared, whereas the bull calf
is a luxury not worth his keep. In consequence he seldom
survives the first year of life, and not infrequently is
slaughtered for food on the day he is born without his
mother seeing him. Normally two or three bulls will serve
a herd of fifty cows; they also carry tents and the heavier
burdens when on the move. Herds when wandering off to
remote inaccessible regions split up over wide areas, each
Badu family looking after its own; but the tribe will collect
again for self-protection against the raiders of the steppe,
whenever the need of grazing draws them southward into
danger, as last winter.

The tribes strongest in camels are the Murra, Manasir
and Manahil, also, to some extent, the Sa’ar. The Rashid
have of late years decayed from the depredations of the
Sa’ar, so that to-day a Rashidi with five camels is com-
paratively well off, with twenty he is rich, and one hundred
is the limit of affluence; with the Murra averages are much
higher. My envious Rashidi informant in emphasising their
wealth, with a simile familiar to us of the West through the
Old Testament, picked up a handful of sand and allowed

[267]

AT BAN AI Y AN: A RETROSPECT

it to trickle through his fingers. l W allahiX so-and-so has
four hundred camels,’ he said, ‘and he is not a shaikh, nor
has he money, nor clothes better than mine.’

‘What happens to the milk?’ I asked.

‘Let a man have much milk,’ was the answer, ‘and he
will have many guests. His neighbours expect it of him, and
the passers-by. Any surplus milk will be given to the young
camels.’

Camel hair provides almost all the few household wants
of the nomad life - tent material, ropes, saddle girths, and
miscellaneous trappings. Here again the cow is the more
profitable sex. Her shoulders and back each year yield to
her master’s fist or dagger the raw material which his
womenfolk will work up, for weaving is a feminine occupa-
tion; not milking, however, at least with Rashid and
’Awamir, who share the mountain taboo against the
milking of camels by women; on the other hand, the Murra,
Manasir, Sa’ar and Hadhramaut steppe tribes have no such
ban.

Two types of saddle are in use in the sands. The double-
poled saddle - the shadad — placed over the camel’s hump.
This, the normal saddle of the rest of Arabia, is used in the
Rub’ al Khali only by the Murra, the Sa’ar, and Karab.
By the entire remaining tribes, as indeed in Oman and
throughout the whole of south-eastern Arabia, the zana is
used, a small light frame (without poles) covered with a
goatskin and placed behind the camel’s hump. The dis-
tribution of camel saddles is thus geographical; west of my
line of route the tribes use the shadad , east of it the zana.

So also the sands know two dialects of Arabic, but here
the division is latitudinal. There is a northern or Murri
dialect and a southern or Rashid dialect, the latter also

[ 268 ]

DIFFERENCES OF DIALECT

spoken by the ’Awamir 1 of the north-east. The chief
distinctions between north and south dialects are word
differences , 2 and a considerable difference of voice modula-
tion. Hamad bin Hadi had volunteered the information
that his people’s dialect was peculiar, because Murra, he
said, had sprung from an infidel; but in the presence of
other members of his tribe he corrected himself, and all
agreed to a common origin with ’Ajman, thence deriving
from Yam. But the original maternal ancestor of the tribe
was, God bless you, a jinni.

While polygamy is permissible, it is seldom that a Badu
has more than one wife at a time, though if he is well off he
may have two or may marry, divorce, and remarry. For a
man and woman to live together out of wedlock is unknown,
and would be impossible in a tribal society in which the
liberty of the individual is subordinated to the interests
of the clan and its posterity, and whose rigorous moral code
is rooted in age-long experience, secure from the philo-
sophical speculations of celibate professors. In theory no

1 Kathir and ’Amr, the respective ancestors of Rashid and ’Awamir
were, according to their traditions, brothers and the sons of Hamdan. A
common expression on the lips of Shaikh Salih was: ‘By the sunnat ( i.e . rules)
of ’Amr and Kathir.’ The Hadhramaut tribes also have their separate

dialects.

2 E.g. Rashidi Murri

Unleavened bread Girus Gadama

Wild cat Khawenga Idfa

Steppe Jadda Hadeba

Digging tool ’Atela Ilhim

Reference has already been made to y taking the place of j in the Rashidi
dialect. The chim for a kaf is nowhere met, though common with the
Ikhwan tribes of Mutair, ’Ataiba, ’Ajman, Dawasir, etc.: the g takes the
place of q, a qaf sound is never met with amongst Badawin; the participle
qad , noticeably absent in ’Iraq dialect, is universal in South Arabia. (In the
Mahri and non-Arabic dialects its equivalent is bir.)

[ 269]

AT BAN A I Y AN: A RETROSPECT

marriage is valid, except it be ‘knotted’ formally by a
Qadhi , 1 or adequate proxy, with considerable ceremony,
doubtless designed to discourage its participants from
breaking their bonds.

The prospective bridegroom and representative of the
bride, usually her father or brother, go off together to the
nearest town , 2 where a Qadhi will be found, for it is almost
unknown for a Qadhi to come out into the desert. A system
whereby certain tribesmen, who have taken advantage of a
sojourn in the town to learn the formulae stand proxy for a
Qadhi and celebrate marriages, has come to have a validity
with dwellers in the remoter sands; the office is then
hereditary. It is the custom after the ‘knot’ is tied for the,
bridegroom to pay over the purchase price to the father.
Then he will bring to the bride some silver jewellery and a
simple rug for the nuptial couch (and with the Rashid he
must also make a feast) before the consummation can take
place. The nose-kiss is the kiss of the marital bed . 3

Man treats woman as an inferior, a chattel. This is

1 An interpreter of Holy Law, sometimes a preacher among Sunnis, but
among Shi’ahs, in Persia and ’Iraq, a priest. The institution of a priestly
hierarchy is foreign to Islam, and is anathema to the orthodox, and especially
to Wahabis.

2 The Manasir tribe uses Abu Dhabi.

The Awamir tribe uses Ibri, Dhank and Biraimi.

The Rashid tribe uses Dhufar or Raidha.

The Murra tribe uses Hofuf or Jabrin.

3 Intra decern primos matrimonii dies pudori habetur interdiu coitus.
Corpus feminae ab umbilico usque ad genua nunquam detegere licet: si vir
pannum qui ei pro tegumento est, removere velit, ilicet femina questa e
tabernaculo excurrat. Pro lecto arenas habent; nam lectus, qualem nos
habemus, eis ignotus est. Maxime usitatum est a latere vel a tergo cum
femina coire, id quod etiam cum muliere praegnante vel paucis ante partum
diebus nonnunquam lit.

[ 270 ]

TRIBAL POLITICS

perhaps natural in the desert environment, where un-
interrupted physical fitness, brute strength, and an aggres-
sive character are qualities which Nature demands and
rewards. The beating of women for common, everyday
lapses was approved by my Murra Badawin, but not by the
Rashidis.

The politics of Rub’ al Khali revolve round inter-tribal
relationships. Geographical considerations make for three
almost separate tribal groupings, the Rimal tribes, their
neighbours of the eastern steppe and those of the southern
steppe.

The true sand dwellers have been shown to be the Murra
in north and north-west, the Manasir and ’Awamir in the
north-east, and Ar Rashid and Bait Imani in the south.

Twenty years ago these tribes were at one another’s
throats. Murra and Manasir were old and implacable
enemies; between ’Awamir and Manasir the feud was even
fiercer. The ’Awamir, once a very great tribe in South
Arabia were the original dwellers in the present, Rashidi
sands of the Dakaka, Suwahib, Hibak and Ghanim, but
unequal contests with the Manasir have impoverished them;
while Murra and Rashid have many old scores. Yet to-day
peace, the peace of Bin Sa’ud, prevails throughout the sands.
The influence of the Ruler of Central Arabia, wielded
through his able Viceroy at Hofuf, Bin Jaluwi, compels
peace between all these old enemies, not through direct
control, for there is and can be none, but through the im-
mense personal prestige of ’Abdul ’Aziz himself. A belief
in his strength and star has swept across the sands. Not love,
but awe, serves this wise providence that so directs affairs.
My own rabia Hamad bin Hadi had not yet made submis-
sion, but he was respectful in his fear of the mighty, the

[ 271 ]

AT BANAIYAN: A RETROSPECT

belief that the ruler of Riyadh had power to despoil him of
his spoils, or make him the prey of an enemy. Upon this
conviction is founded peace in the sands to-day. Thus the
sand tribes proper are in some degree leagued with Bin
Sa’ud. They pay to him a nominal tribute and by that act
are ensured mutual protection one from the other. In
theory the tribute is an annual levy of one dollar on each
camel. In practice, the Rashid have no money, and in any
event they escape proper payment by reason of their
remoteness. They do, however, send a camel from year to
year as occasion offers in token of submission. When,
however, rains fall in the northern sands and they migrate
thither, the tax-gatherers’ demands must be met, and a few
camels are sold for the purpose.

Light as is the bond, the tribes grumble at it. They have
no sympathy with the Arab proverb, that originated, we
may be sure, in a town, ‘A tyrannical Sultan is to be
preferred to constant quarrelling.’ They would rather have
unfettered liberty than peace at a price; it is in their blood.
They all swear that the existing peace shall last only as long
as the present regime of Riyadh. Let Riyadh or Hofuf be
thought to have lost its power, and raiding will be resumed
immediately, and blood will flow again. This attitude of
mind is not peculiar to the Rub’ al Khali. The student of
politics will recall many instances in the recent history of the
British Empire.

It was the knowledge of this unprecedented suspension of
blood feuds, springing from a determined but benign
autocracy, that emboldened me to launch out across these
ancient (and future) battle-grounds of the sands.

The politics of the eastern steppe are not unaffected by
Bin Sa’ud’s influence, though this varies from year to year.

[ 272 ]

THE SA’AR MENACE

Here the groupings form round ancient hereditary factions
of Hinawi and Ghafari already referred to - ’Awamir,
Harasis and Afar belonging to the former, Daru' 1 and Albu
Shamis to the Ghafari, but their strife has no echo in the
sands.

The politics of the southern steppe are completely free
from Bin Sa’ud’s influence, and the great tribes of Sa’ar,
Manahil, Kathir and Mahra, and the lesser ones of Karab,
Yam, Nahad and Nisi yin are laws unto themselves. The
most powerful single element is the Sa’ar. With them,
Nahad and Karab may act in concert, while elements of the
others are capable of uniting for a particular raid; but there
is no long and sustained or organised warfare. There
cannot be, for each man has but twenty rounds or so of
ammunition and guards his stock jealously unless he is
making a journey to the coast to sell a camel or two.
Their wars are consequently sporadic with booty as the
end and aim.

The Sa’ar tribe and its allies are to-day the serious menace
to peace in the southern sands. Numerically powerful -
perhaps two thousand rifles - they derive strength from
their remoteness, and have hitherto refused to receive an
embassy from Bin Sa’ud.

1 Daru‘ and Manahil, supposed to have had a common origin, now by
some odd chance belong (in name] to opposite factions.

S

[ 2 73 ]

XX: BANAIYAN TO THE SEA: THE
LAST STAGE

anuary 28th was spent resting at Banaiyan after
our eighteen days’ dash across the central sands - a
halt necessary to refresh tired camels and men. We
gathered round the camp-fire at nightfall - it proved to be
the last leisurely session the march afforded - and with the
end of the journey in sight I was able to throw off my
habitual restraint.

My electric torch was a source of wonderment to my
companions. ‘Could a strayed or stolen camel be tracked
on a dark night with it ?’ that was the crucial question. The
first Badu to place his hand over the lighted end discovered
that there was practically no heat, and brought the miracle
to the notice of his companions. They all followed suit and
when, instead of feeling heat they saw the red hue of blood
and shadowy finger-bones, they burst out in astonished
cries - ‘There is no god but God. Surely the Sahib’s tribe
must be a wonderful people ?’ It was idle for me to declare
that I had not made the torch, for did we not make still
more marvellous works - rifles and ammunition!

‘Who makes rifles ?’ asked one Badu, fondling his own.

‘The Infidels,’ said another without looking up.

‘No,’ I corrected them, ‘we are Believers.’

‘And if we came to your country, Sahib, would you be
our rabia so that none should harm us ?’

‘There is no need for a rabia in my country.’

‘But,’ said Hamad, ‘ if one should slay me and you were
my rabia what would you do?’

‘But none would slay you. Nobody may carry arms in
my country.’

[ 2 74 ]

AN ARAB IN EREWHON

‘What a place!’ I felt them to be thinking, ‘fit only for
women and slaves!’

‘And should we get camel’s milk to drink?’

‘We have no camels,’ I returned apologetically, for I
knew I should get few marks for this.

‘Then what have you got? Sheep? Cows?’

‘Yes, sheep and cows,’ I said, ‘but we make ships and
rifles and all manner of things from the iron of the earth.’

‘True,’ interjected Shaikh Salih with a sophisticated air,
‘I’ve heard a Mansuri from Abu Dhabi say that one day a
Nasrani came to the shaikh and told him that in his country
a bar of iron like this,’ and he flourished his camel stick,
‘would make five rifles.’

Chorus of Badawin: ‘There is no god but God.’

One picked up the torch again. ‘It is heavy,’ he said.
‘God! it’s heavy,’ said another, as he took it out of his
comrade’s hand.

Salih: ‘They are not an easy people’ (i.e. not a weak
tribe whose members could be treated as inferiors).

‘Inside the torch is gwwa - strength - (a word they
reverence) ‘more potent than bullets, and such that it kills
men,’ I said.

‘But why kill them?’

‘Only bad men,’ I returned - ‘murderers.’

‘Yes, and very right too - “an eye for an eye and a tooth
for a tooth” — ’tis God’s Law.’

‘But have you no blood-money?’

‘None,’ I said.

‘Then the murdered man’s brother or cousin does not
profit a single dollar.’

‘Not a single dollar,’ I repeated, conscious that I was
scoring very few marks again.

[ 2 75 ]

BANAIYAN TO THE SEA

‘But have you no sanctuary?’

‘No, our shaikh is strong, and no one would dare to give
a murderer sanctuary.’

‘But with us,’ said Salih, ‘sanctuary is honoured, unless
there is shame in the murder, such for instance as a rabia
who has betrayed his companion. What good man is there,’
he continued, looking round his companions, ‘who would
withhold sanctuary from one who had killed his enemy ?’

Chorus of Badawin: ‘Yes, by God!’

‘Which direction is your country. Sahib?’ said one of
them after a pause.

I pointed with my riding cane in a north-westerly
direction.

‘How far is it away?’

‘ Hoi - a year’s march, from Ramadhan to Ramadhan,’ I
said, ‘at our pace.’

Chorus of Badawin: ‘There is no god but God.’

‘And which direction is it from Mecca?’ interposed
Salih, one of the few South Arabian Badawin I knew who
had made the Pilgrimage.

I pointed as before, perhaps a shade more northerly.

‘And how far is it from there ?’

‘Almost as far as it is from here.’

Chorus: ‘There is no god but God.’

‘Then it is beyond the sea, Sahib ?’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘beyond the sea.’

‘And what is there beyond it?’

‘The sea again,’ I said.

‘Where is the Sea of Barlimul ?’ said Talib. ‘I think you
must mean the Sea of Barlimul.’ He turned to tell his
companions that there the world ended. Beyond was
nothing. It was the seventh and last sea - Allahu 'Alim!

[ 276]

THE STORY OF DHIYAB

I felt I had done my share of story-telling, and was an
eager listener when one of them fell to telling a story about
Dhiyab bin Ghanim. Dhiyab was from the nobility of Bani
Hillal, albeit with the appearance of a slave. And on the
black day when Yusif was killed, and Dhiyab, Bu Zaid and
Baraiga were made prisoners, his appearance saved him
from close confinement, for he was thought to be of no
account.

He was first set to work with the masons repairing
Zenaiti’s fort. But such was his lack of skill, that the stones
he slung up passed clean over the fort and landed on the far
side in the desert. So his captors said, ‘This slave is no good
at this work, we will set him to tend herds.’ And Dhiyab
was given cows to look after, but he neglected to water them
properly so that they came near to dying. And his masters,
seeing that he made a bad cowman, sent him with asses to
go forth into the scrub and fetch kindlings. There he cut
two long sticks and sharpened their ends and thrust them
through the backs of a' pair of donkeys to make carriers for
his firewood. And so he brought a huge load to his masters.
Their first impulse was to applaud, not knowing by what
contrivance it had been brought, but as soon as the firewood
was off-loaded, the asses dropped dead. And the men of
Arisha shook their heads and said, ‘Dhiyab’s wits are weak, he
is fit for nothing but to tend camels; we will set him to look
after the Bani Hillal camels that we captured with him’;
thus did Dhiyab attain the object of his desire. As the days
passed the condition of the camels improved, and Dhiyab
won favour in the sight of his masters. And each time he
watered the camels he chose a more distant water-hole, thus
lengthening his absences by degrees without exciting
suspicion until one day he reached the point that favoured

[ 2 77 ]

BANAIY AN TO THE SEA

his escape and thence made off back to Bani Hillal country
with the camels. And in order that the passer-by need
bring no alarming news of him to Zenaiti he sat on his camel,
facing backwards towards Arisha, and placed earth upon his
head and under his haunches . 1 And thus he came to the
Bani Hillal. There Shaikh Husain bin Sirhan, after he had
listened to Dhiyab’s story, planned to rescue Bu Zaid and
Baraiga, and in the fullness of time the tribe set forth and
came to a fragrant pool into which fell three wadis. And
Bani Hillal took counsel together and decided to leave their
women and animals with sixty horsemen to protect them,
while the gom passed on to the country of Zenaiti, but on
the morrow they changed the plan, saying that in place of
the sixty horsemen they would leave Dhiyab bin Ghanim.

‘The camels and the women are in thy protection,’ said
the shaikh to Dhiyab in farewell, ‘guard them with thy life.’

And Dhiyab replied, ‘If one of them shall be missing,
then is my life forfeit.’

That night a jinn came wandering down the wadi to see
who was encamped there. He carried in his hand a mighty
spear, and went in and out among the camels seeking for
the biggest and best, and having found it he speared it, and
carrying the camel impaled over his shoulder returned up
the wadi. The next night he came again so that in the
morning yet another camel was missing. And when on the
third night there was still another visitation, terror seized
the camp, for none had seen the jinn except the wife of
Dhiyab, and she was loth to speak for fear of the jinn's
revenge. Dhiyab, regarding his wife’s strange silence,
questioned her, but she would not reply. Then he drew his

1 I record the story as told, but the allusion is not clear to me, and to
have questioned my narrator would have broken the thread of the story

[ 2 7 S ]

DHIYAB AND THE JINN

sword and tapped her with it, saying, ‘Woman! tell me what
thou knowest or I will slay thee.’ So she told Dhiyab of
the jinn that came down a certain wadi and of how he
speared the camels and carried them off.

On the following morning Dhiyab despatched his slave
to follow up the jinn s tracks and to bring tidings of where
the jinn lived. And the slave came to a well that had been
caused by the falling of a star and saw the jinn within it, and
the remains of the camels strewn round about the mouth
of it, and so brought back news to Dhiyab. So Dhiyab
mounted his mare and came to the well. As he approached
the jinn stood up to show his monstrous proportions, for his
body was as much out of the well as within it.

And th e jinn shouted, ‘Oh ha! Ya Dhiyab bin Ghanim!
hast thou come to eat or to slay?’

Dhiyab replied, ‘I have come both to eat and to slay,’ and
drawing his sword he struck lustily at the jinn and cut him
in halves, so that one half stood within the well, and the
other lay fallen without.

Said th e jinn s upper half, ‘ Hain ’ - strike a second time.

But Dhiyab replied:

‘ Ma thinni , ‘I strike not twice,

Wa la zinni. Nor go a-whoring,

Wa la akl al jins ni .’ Nor am I food for your kind,’

for Dhiyab knew what everybody knows, that whereas one
fell blow will kill a jinn, two blows will surely bring two
jinns to life.

And Dhiyab returned to the camp to find that the gom
was just returning, but alas! knew not that three of his sons
had fallen and also Amr bin Khafaiyat, a valiant and

[ 2 79 ]

BANAIYAN TO THE SEA

beloved warrior whose mother had been of the Bani Hillal.
And the gom were troubled in their minds as to which
among them should convey the ill-tidings to Dhiyab, who
would surely strike down with his spear such a messenger of
woe. For Dhiyab’s spear was never known to miss; once
it was launched it must land in flesh; so ‘it was written’; and
should it not land in flesh Dhiyab would die in that same day.

And none being willing to tell him, it was decided to send
Dalaiyan the slave, for they said one to another, ‘Should
Dalaiyan die he dies; and should he live he lives only to be
a slave.’

And Dalaiyan asked for the speediest mare and they gave
it to him, and he rode towards Dhiyab’s place and drew
rein at a great distance.

Dhiyab shouted to him, ‘Tell me, O Dalaiyan, as I am
of the sons of darkness, how went the fight, and tell me of
the gallantry of my sons and how it fares with them.’

And the slave answered:

‘Of our camels and our sons, the best have gone.

Thy three sons and bin Khafaiyat.

Bravest of warriors of their tribe and time.’

And as the slave now turned his mount about and
galloped away, Dhiyab seized his spear and hurled it after
him; but Dalaiyan bending low over his steed, the weapon
passed over him and landed some paces beyond in the head
of a snake.

‘Great God!’ cried Dhiyab, ‘my spear has missed. Now
must I pass to where the slain have gone.’

‘SelemniJ shouted back the slave, ‘save me unhurt and I
will give thee good tidings.’

[ 280 ]

CALVINISTS OF THE DESERT

Dhiyab: ‘By my face.’

The slave: ‘The spear point landed in flesh.’

Dhiyab: ‘God be praised! And mayest thou live long.’

We made an early morning start into Wahhabi territory 1
— the home of the Ikhwan (brotherhood) sectaries. Here
we moved furtively. Every hour of the day the horizons
were scanned for signs of the feared Puritans of Islam,
intolerant men who hold it virtuous to fight not merely the
infidel, but the heretic in Islam, by whom they mean every
Muslim not holding their narrow views. My companions
were emphatic that there should be no loitering, not even
for my note-taking, between here and the coast, and that if
suspicious tracks were crossed, we should take no risks but
halt in the wilderness by day, and march by night.
Fortunately for my map-making the second course was not im-
posed upon us, for it was Ramadhan, and the Ikhwan tribes
had withdrawn to the regions of Jaub and Jafura for the Fast.

‘God is sufficient for their Evil ,’ 2 exclaimed Hamad the
rabia.

Our course lay at first through a hard gravelly steppe
bright with pebbles coloured like camphor, cornelian or
jade; thence through large white salt-fields, with dark damp
patches here and there.

Fortunately the recent rain had not been enough to turn
the crusted surface into a greasy mire and hold camels up
as normally occurs. Beyond we came to light-coloured

1 So named by us after the followers of the religious rules of Muhammad
bin Abdul Wahhab of Nejd, a religious reformer of the eighteenth century.
The Ikhwan, their twentieth-century successors, have taken their place
and revived their doctrines.

2 The word evil is used to mean every kind of misfortune, e.g. raids or
disease.

[281]

BANAIYAN TO THE SEA

sands and within them a wadi-like depression with vegeta-
tion , 1 Jaub Dhibi, our camping ground and a haunt, as
their tracks showed, of hyena, wild-cat, lizards and other
steppe animals.

The Jiban tract that lay ahead of us for the next few days
was of the same type; alternating ribbons of steppe, salt-
plain and rolling sand-hills with a verdant sand depression
such as Dhibi at intervals of a half-day’s march, Kharit,
Thuraiya, Sufaiya and Lizba. The steppes were dusted with
gravel of jasper and gypsum, pebbles of black, white, red
and green that shone in the sun; the northern salt plains
were studded by innumerable small shells 2 in an early stage
of petrification; the gullies in the sand-hills were here and
there bright green with haram scrub, or pink and white
with patches of gypsum rubble; and in these same gullies
we dug out the shallow holes at which we watered.

Before Lizba, however, was a considerable ridge, the only
one of its kind. It stretched east and west as far as the eye
could see, rose some two hundred feet on its southern side
and fell to the northwards through a quarry-like desolation
to rolling sands. In the sands many black-ribbed beetles
were crawling amidst sprigs of fresh grass, the green first-
fruits of the scanty winter rain. This grass, ushub , said to
produce the most delicious camel milk, gave us reason to
halt from time to time and graze our camels.

Talib, a northern Murri, had supplanted Hamad as our
guide in the marches north of Haluwain, a change for the
worse, though inevitable, as he alone of our party claimed
local knowledge. The compass directions and distances of

1 The vegetation consisted of shinan , gadha , the stunted, bulrush-like
tarthuth, and saadan.

2 See Appendix II.

[ 282 ]

TALIB TAKES CHARGE

water-holes that he gave me proved wrong, and when I
took him to task, he swore that he spoke the truth ‘by Him
who created me and created the Sun.’ I felt sure he had
no mind to deceive us, but the pasture and firewood he
promised for our night’s halt did not appear. These were
the chief considerations every afternoon in anticipation of
the night’s camp, and my company grew critical. ‘Ya
Arab,’ said one, ‘there is only cold and hunger ahead.’ We
veered to the eastwards, so that the conspicuous sand-hill,
Alamat al Nakhala, formerly on our right front, appeared
on our left; by sunset we had turned our backs upon it and
were actually marching away from our goal in the hope of
finding food and warmth that night. Had it been summer-
time with its drought the mistake might have cost us our
lives. One Badu in ten is a good guide, one in fifty a
reliable informant. The mutual suspicion of the Rashid
and Murra members of my party was of interest; it showed
that neither believed their present peaceful relations to be
lasting. So they would not disclose the secrets of their
respective districts. Now and then a Murri would slip off to
examine the state of some well or pasture, but it would
never have done for a Rashidi to follow or enquire. Any-
one contemplating such a journey as this is wise to collect
all possible information beforehand, then the reliability of
any particular informant can be quickly checked.

One day’s march was very like another. Always an hour
before sunrise I was awakened by the voice of Marzuq,
sounding the Dawn call to prayer:

‘God is great.

There is no god but God.

There is no god but God.

[283]

BANAIYAN TO THE SEA

I bear witness that Muhammad is the Prophet of God.

I bear witness that Muhammad is the Prophet of God.

Prayer is better than sleep.

Prayer is better than sleep.

/ God is great.

There is no god but God.’

A chorus of sanctimonious groans from stirring Badawin
was their Amen! There often followed Shaikh Salih’s
parental chiding of Kilthut who was ailing, and in conse-
quence a laggard.

‘Rise, O Kilthut!, are you listening? Rise and pray!’

After prayers the Badawin, breaking up, drove their
camels off to the nearest grazing, and then returned to
breakfast off a handful of dates and a drink of brackish
water. For the next eleven hours no food passed their lips,
and during Ramadhan no water either; yet they seemed to
thrive on it. My own breakfast-lunch, taken also at the
first hour after sunrise, consisted of a bowl of camel’s milk
and a dish of oatmeal - my invariable diet for fifty-eight
days on end.

If camel pastures were good I was allowed to finish my
meal at leisure and to write up my natural history specimens
and other notes before starting off, but if the camp had been
a hungry one, then the moment I had finished my meal we
would saddle, knowing that during the march we would
have to loiter for grazing. My pack-camel was brought
first.

‘There is no god but God.

O God.

Him whom we supplicate.

O God.’

[284]

LOADING UP

Thus a Badu picking up his cane lying on the sands
between two toes, and leading my pack-camel over to
couch her with a kh kh and a gentle tapping with his stick
behind her knee or over her neck. Another would come to
help him load up, and while the animal bellowed protest-
ingly, they broke into a camel-chant suitably agitato for the
occasion.

Badawin were everywhere loading up and moving off
dismounted, each with the first foot forward, muttering
some pious invocation to the Unseen. The Rashidi formula 1
was as follows:

‘In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful.

Reliance is in God.

Peace upon the rafiq .

O God!

There is none other, and none equal to Thee.

And no escape from Thy Will.

0 God, by Thy forgiveness

Make easy our path, and guide our rafiq .’

To which one of the party would return:

‘There is no god but God.’

The morning routine was that we walked the first three
or four miles, leading our camels; but I was usually first
into the saddle, except for Bin Ham, a Bait Imani shaikh,
and a doughty warrior among them still, in spite of a leg
crippled by the old bullet wound of a raid.

1 When starting out on a raid, the formula is sometimes as follows: ‘God
give to her back’ (t.e. his camel’s) ‘good luck, and guide us so that we may
return.’

[285]

BAN A I Y AN TO THE SEA

The camel’s great size and lethargic movements make her
pace appear funereal, but the brisk movements of the small
man ahead show that her average walking pace in easy
country is about three miles an hour. Couched, her head
swings superciliously from side to side and her filthy cud-
filled mouth opens expectantly as her rider approaches, for
she has been trained to rise instantly she feels the slightest
touch to her back. Mounting has therefore to be a quick
leap, which she often anticipates by a fraction of a second.
Then she must be couched again with more knee-tapping.
But so long as her master’s riding cane is stuck in the sand
by her head or his rifle lies on the sands in her sight she will
sit contentedly. It is when he takes these things in his hands
that she shows signs of nervous anticipation.

Mounted, she is always given her head, the halter being
frequently unused, only a tapping on her neck with the
cane, and a few guttural noises being required to teach her
to obey her rider’s will. Her own disposition tempts her
to almost every tuft of food in the way; even she will crunch
some fragment of white desiccated bone against her ridicu-
lous toothless upper jaw unless her master urges her past in
discouragement, as he normally will.

And so the Badu sits jogging along hour after hour with
an occasional change of seat. In an Omani saddle he will
not ride astride for long, but tuck his feet up under his
haunches in a sitting-kneeling position, or ride side-saddle
with his legs dangling limply. The double-poled Murra
saddle admits of less variety, but is more comfortable to
Europeans as the legs can be crossed to rest on her
shoulders.

Most Badawin go bareheaded, a great shock of tousled
dark brown hair being sufficient protection from the sun.

[a86]

TRIALS OF STRENGTH

They will draw daggers as they ride along and scratch their
own locks unabashed.

The rifle of a mounted Arab is generally carried in one
hand across the animal’s back; Rashidi saddles lend them-
selves to packing it; with a Murra saddle it leans up rakishly
from a bucket, its bunches of tasselled thongs flapping
merrily to the jogging. The Badu is a cheerful companion,
generally humming some chant to himself. Occasionally he
will burst forth double forte without any warning to his
companions, who seem, however, always appreciative.
Sometimes two would sing a duet, in unison of course.
These chants vary between tribes; I was curious to record
every one I heard so far as European notation 1 would allow.
At other times they engaged each other in trials of strength,
attempting to unseat one another while on the march, the
loser’s penalty being a ten-foot drop on to the sands.

Hamad, my rabia , was the strong man among them, and
I had one or two indecisive tussles; then we tried a wrestling
match with no better results, though I was head and
shoulders the taller.

To dismount, a Badu will not normally couch his camel
but side-slip off her, so also to mount, he will clamber up a
fore-leg while she is on the move, gripping it just above the
knee between his big and second toe, hauling himself up
over her neck and thence vaulting round by means of the
hump into a sitting position.

With such acrobatics were my smaller zoological speci-
mens often collected. Now and again there would be a
shout from behind, ‘ namuna , Sahib, namunaV 2 An Arab

1 See Appendix VI.

8 namuna — a specimen. With the Badu it often became lumuna or some-
times just muna , which is illustrative of the resilience of the desert tongue.

[287]

BAN A I Y AN TO THE SEA

would come running up with some small creature to go into
my killing-bottle and, not infrequently, some fairy-tale
about it.

One day a podgy white slug - a repellent creature which
lives in the nostrils of a camel till she sneezes it out - was
brought along with the remark, ‘It is this small creature
that has brought camels to the service of man. But for it,
the camel would have been as wild as the fox and the gazelle,
fit only to be hunted and eaten.’

Another day it was a sand-spider of the kind that had
woven a web over the footmarks of the Prophet when he fled
before the infidels, so deceiving his pursuers and saving him.

My companions were ever punctilious about prayer,
especially Salih, who would in the mid-afternoon look up:

‘Is it the hour of prayer. Sahib?’

‘After half an hour,’ 1 I would say, looking at my watch
and pointing to some pastures ahead. Halts for prayer
were indeed determined where possible by the presence of
camel grazing. Towards the day’s end the party was
usually stretched out over a mile or more so that my
companions on the march would pray in twos and threes
wherever they happened to find themselves, and not all
together in line as for the camp prayer.

The camel went away grazing as her master made his
devotions and ten minutes later there would be shouts of
‘Hir-r-r’ (trilled) ‘Shorn,’ followed by her name. She would
look up and wait, statuesquely, for him to come and fetch
her; ‘ Muh Muh ’ or ‘ Ra ra ra (rolled) are calls for an unled
camel getting out of line on the march.

1 The word ‘hour’ is meaningless to these Badawin. The only unit of
time smaller than a day is the interval between prayers. Generally speaking,
time is expressed in terms of distance.

[ 288 ]

‘IT IS WRITTEN’

The boredom of a long silence was often broken by an
outburst from somebody. ‘God is great and there is none
other but He.’ A pious answer is always ready.

‘The day is cold!’ I might say.

‘It is from Allah,’ would be the reply. To wish it other-
wise were blasphemous. From God always, and everything.
Never was there a firmer faith in the inevitability of events -
murder, raids, disease, all are part of the Divine plan. Each
has its written hour.

But there is also a merrier mood. Now and then a Badu
will remember some favourite rhyme, perhaps about Bu
Zaid or Dhiyab bin Ghanim, or other giant of antiquity.

Salih came riding alongside one day reciting the Bani
Hillal’s self-satisfied reflections concerning their enemies.

‘These are sparrows, and Bu Zaid a sidr tree.

Them we put to flight; and to its shade return.

For wolf wound there is medicine,

For Bu Zaid’s spear-thrust there is no medicine,

The blood gushes forth as from the well-bucket
Drawn up brimming and swiftly outpoured.’

‘And swiftly outpoured,’ came from another rider,
characteristically repeating the last phrase. Then he turned
to me, ‘Our Lord Muhammad has said, “Bu Zaid will be
found in Paradise.” ’

I showed no signs of surprise. Then another admirer
broke in:

‘O Bu Zaid! O Bu Zaid! Bu Mukhaimar!
Thy sword unsheathed, the stricken liveth not.

[289]

BANAIYAN TO THE SEA

How many water-holes hast thou passed and not
counted P 1

In the watches of the night after the sun had set.

Seen how many waterings with empty bellies 2

In the day when eyes were closed in sleep .’ 3

I confessed a preference for Arab prose to Arab poetry,
and so one fell to telling me the story of the combat of
Dhiyab bin Ghanim and Alan the Slave of Risha.

‘Alan was the slave of Zenaiti, and a much feared foe of
Bani Hillal, for whoever among them crossed swords with
him was surely killed. So they came to Bu Zaid and be-
sought him to slay Alan’s horse. But Bu Zaid had given
his word that he would not, for when he was a prisoner of
Zenaiti’s, Alan had come to him and said, “Let us swear
an oath that if we meet in combat neither of us shall harm
the other.” And Bu Zaid had sworn. So when he escaped
and had raised a gom to rescue his brother Baraiga, he could
not take part in the attack but must stand aside. And it was
the custom for each party to send a champion to fight before
the walls of Zenaiti’s fort. And the champion of Zenaiti
was the slave Alan, and death was the portion of whoever
entered the lists against him - thus the three sons of Dhiyab
bin Ghanim and the loved one Amr bin Khafaiyat died.
And Alan was mounted on a horse the like of which was
never seen before or since, and when it neighed the horses
of Bani Hillal became cold with fear and their riders
powerless to do ought with them. And Alan’s stratagem
was to unseat his adversary by means of a long chain that

1 Viz. from the speed of the raid.

2 Viz. camels famished and able to go no longer.

3 Viz. the enemies.

[ 2 9° ]

DHIYAB AND ALAN

had a hook attached, and this he launched skilfully to catch
in the chain-armour of his opponent, whom Alan would
drag from the saddle and slay.

‘The Bani Hillal took counsel together and they said,
“As Bu Zaid will not fight this foe there is only one other
who can, that is Dhiyab bin Ghanim.” So Dhiyab was sent
for and he came. And Dhiyab took three garments and
boiled them so that they were reduced to pulp and these he
donned instead of chain-armour. Then he filled the ears
of his mare with mud so that she should not hear the
neighing of Alan’s horse. And now the field of combat was
ready; it lay before the fort of Zenaiti and was fronted by a
deep moat which Alan, after he had slaughtered a foe, must
jump to enter the fort.

‘The two warriors came on from opposite ends. And as
they approached the centre suddenly Alan’s horse neighed,
whereupon Dhiyab cunningly turned his mare back upon
Bani Hillal and retreated in order to draw his adversary
away from the fort. Alan pursued hotly and when he came
within striking distance hurled his hook. It caught lightly
in the outer mantle of Dhiyab but instead of unseating him,
merely tore a piece of the outer garment away; again Alan
threw his hook, only to catch in Dhiyab’s second garment,
and then a third time with no better success. Alan was now
discomfited and himself turned to retire with Dhiyab racing
after him. And when Alan’s horse arrived at the edge of
the moat it neighed as was its wont, but Dhiyab’s mare, not
hearing it, leapt the moat immediately after it and so
Dhiyab came up with Alan at the entrance to Zenaiti’s fort.
Here Alan, who was arrayed in a suit of chain-armour, so
that only his eyes appeared, turned his head to see where his
adversary was, and as he did so Dhiyab launched his spear

[291]

BANAIYAN TO THE SEA

and it penetrated Alan’s eye and passed through his head
and buried itself to a half of its length in the wall of
the fort.

‘And Alan, as he lay dying where he fell, looked up and
asked:

‘ “Dhib or Dhiyab ?” for an ’Alim had told him that one
of such a name would be his overcomer.

‘Said Dhiyab: “Dhiyab.”

‘Alan (with his last breath): “ ufi al hisab' 1 ' 1 - the day of
reckoning.’

The night of ist-2nd February was raw and cold, and
I was awake before the Dawn call to prayer. The big moon
in the western sky dwarfed proud Jupiter, whose glory had
been unchallenged a fortnight earlier when she was young.
From the procession of constellations across the bright
tropical sky I had learned to know the hour. To-night were
first Regulus and the Sickle (also suffering like Jupiter from
a relative proximity to the Moon), then Spica and his
Spanker and so on to Scorpio, a magnificent constellation in
the east, with Venus to keep him company. I had watched
her sliding down his body these last few nights. At mid-
night I rose to take sights of Polaris, but found that the
adjustment of my sextant, a daily requirement after the
jolting of the march, had to-night passed finally beyond my
power to effect. My star observations (which I had carried
out in secrecy throughout) would have been prevented this
evening in any case by the presence of a Badu, whose form
silhouetted against the moonlit sky, now erect, now kneeling,
showed him to be at prayer - surely an act of supererogation
at this hour.

At dawn the eastern sky was awash in a sea of blood,

[ 2 9 2 ]

‘THALASSA-THALASSA’

crossed by long purple clouds like ledging reefs, amidst
which the stars soon paled and vanished.

We made an early start, returning at first on last night’s
tracks towards the towering hill of Nakhala through rolling
sands that now and then obscured it. Two Murra guides,
Hamad, Talib and I, clambered up its steep soft sides to the
top, and were rewarded with a distant glimpse of the waters
of the Persian Gulf. It was a sunny balmy day, and a
glorious panorama lay about Nakhala, a waste of low sands
stretching westward to the habitations of Jafura, and
eastwards over ridges of bare sandhills to the sea. The vast,
almost uninhabited wastes of Rub’ al Khali stretched for
weeks behind us, before us lay but a march of four days to
the dwellings of men.

We descended. The aneroid registered below sea-level
readings, as indeed it had done on the day before, and
throughout the next day. Beyond some sandhills we came
to Sabkhat al Manasir, a salt-field several square miles in
extent, thickly strewn with sea-shells in an early state of
fossilisation . 1

Keeping the sea a day’s march on our right hand, we
proceeded on a northerly course through quarry-like
country of extreme desolation. A w r olf was heard near the
bluff of Farhud, where I collected other shells in a more
advanced state of petrification.

The water-hole of Khafus gave rise to a dispute among
my companions whether our camels should be watered
there. The Ayes had it, and a halt of fifty minutes gave me
an opportunity of climbing an outstanding crest to take
bearings on hill-points said to be over the coast - a bold
course that with pay-day now in sight I felt I could afford;

1 See Appendix II.

[ 2 93 ]

BANAIYAN TO THE SEA

also I had, perhaps, after these long weeks with my com-
panions, gained a little of their confidence.

The following day our course, a shade to east of north,
had taken us through more of this quarry-like wilderness,
when, after a six-mile march, I beheld before me a large
silver lake. I had learnt from my Badawin that we should
pass on our right hand a certain Sabkha Amra, and had
naturally supposed that it would be a dry salt-plain, like
the sabkhas of the recent marches. Wherefore a lake some
seven miles in length, and perhaps a mile and a half wide,
came as a pleasant surprise. As we approached its southern
end I picked up two large sea-shell fossils. Thence our
course lay in a low flinty plain that edged its north side, its
south shore appearing to be low sandhills.

While I photographed it, which I must needs do, straight
into the sun under a yellow cloudy sky, my Badawin
collected from its margin large chunks of rock salt, which
they would use in cooking their rice . 1

The border, some twenty feet broad, had a snow-like
appearance, and at a distance it was impossible to see where
the salt ended and the water began. Within some six feet
of the water’s edge ran a line of dead white locusts —
desiccated specimens probably of the large red variety that
is an Arab delicacy. The wretched creatures swarm from
the desert in the spring and take a suicidal plunge into the
first water they meet. The position suggested that the edge
of the lake had receded during the year, but no explanation
was vouchsafed by the two Murras, who alone of my party
had been here before. The slope was so slight that a little
rain, or summer evaporation, would account for the change
of level.

1 For chemical analysis see Appendix IE

[ 2 94 ]

HALUWAIN: AN AQAL WATER-HOLE

A NEW LAKE: SABKHAT AMRA

THE ARAB AND HIS CAMEL

After leaving the lake a more north-easterly course
towards the hog-backed Jabal ’Udaid led us through a
plain sown with jagged splintered stones to another spacious
salt plain, here called Amra. It is said to stretch westwards
past the ancient sites of Iskak, Salwa and Mabak to the
shores of Qatar Bight. Lake salt, and recent shell evidences
and aneroid readings suggest that the base of the Qatar
Peninsula was at no very distant time depressed below the
sea , 1 Qatar making an island like neighbouring Bahrain , 2
but many times bigger.

My companions had halted in the plain for afternoon
prayer. As I came up, Ugaba, my camel, decided the place
suited her. She refused to be urged on ahead alone and sat
bellowing for bint Riman, her usual companion on the
march - an irreverent accompaniment to the audible suppli-
cations of the Faithful. I was taken to task afterwards for
making an elementary mistake, that of giving her the
wrong signal. She had been taught to rise to a tap of the
stick on her- quarters, and my tapping her neck kept her
couched. An unwilling camel is provoking, but no Badu
will ever be seen laying a stick about her for fear of spoiling
what good qualities she has. If annoyed with her, he will
shout:

‘Hai! (nasal) Come to thee kharash’ - a wasting disease.

‘Hail Come to thee death, lawful or unlawful.’

‘Hai! Come to thee a great burden.’

1 It is perhaps not unreasonable to suggest that Gerrha, the ancient
Gulf port of Ptolemy, if it is not to be identified with Bahrain, may be
looked for, not under the sea, as has popularly been supposed, but some
miles inland.

2 I he name Bahrain — ‘two seas,’ applied originally to the whole area
from Doha to Qatif. The islands that are to-day called Bahrain were in
early times known as Awal.

[ 2 95 ]

BAN A I Y AN TO THE SEA

But in his heart he means nothing of the kind. He has
a genuine attachment for her which he knows is not
reciprocated. And so when she stumbles, it is more likely
to be:

‘Hai! thy deliverance.’

‘Hai! Allah deliver thee from evil.’

Even when he has tramped for miles in pursuit of his
straying camel, he approaches her with the words:

‘Hai! God bless thee,’ or

( Ta hat Fish julana' - greeting her by name . 1

Fresh marks of camels identified with the Manasir tribe
induced us to press on, for Hamad, the Murri, was in no
mood to meet them.

A few distant grazing camels against the sky caused
alarmist exchanges among my party. Talib, who was
persona grata with local Manasir, rode ahead to spy out the
land and conceal the constitution of our party if necessary,
while we made a detour to avoid them.

‘There is one thing I want from you when we arrive.
Sahib,’ said Sahail.

‘What is that?’

‘Tobacco.’

‘But this is the Fast of Ramadhan.’

‘Tobacco is the one thing I cannot do without. Sahib.
I fast from everything but tobacco.’

‘But is it not a sin ?’

‘By God it is, but what shall a man do? - and it is only this
Ramadhan, in no previous year have I drunk tobacco.’

Formalists would doubtless hold that Sahail had broken
the fast by smoking, so that there was no virtue in the rest

1 The Murra welcome of a stranger is, ‘ marhaba wa mas'hala the
Manasir, ‘ marhah-kum

[ 2 9 6 ]

‘STILL THEY RULE! THANK GOD’

of his abstinence. Sahail, however - he was the only smoker
in my escort - did not avail himself of the lawful privilege
of the traveller to break the fast altogether. He was
fasting in the spirit, though had any fanatic rebuked him
he would doubtless have taken it humbly.

‘God have mercy on me,’ I heard him mutter as I pushed
on ahead.

Talib our rabta , who had trotted off to investigate the
unknown camels, now came riding back towards us. While
yet a hundred yards off he was shouting:

‘Have you prayed ? Have you prayed ?’

‘Yes, God be glorified!’ my companions shouted back.

He came closer to cry:

''Ya haiyakum, ya haiyakum, good news! if God wills,’ and
my party crowded round him for the latest gossip of the
desert.

A few minutes later Shaikh Salih dropped back to ride
by my side.

‘Good news!’ he said.

‘God be praised.’

‘’Abdul ’Aziz bin Sa’ud is in Riyadh. The governors -
a reference also to Bin Jaluwi of Hasa - are in their towns;
still they rule!’ 1

‘Thank God,’ said a third.

‘And in Jafura is life’ ( i.e . pastures from recent rains).

‘God be praised,’ came a chorus of Badawin, for fresh
pastures at hand would let them turn aside on their return
journey to rest and fatten their mounts for some weeks
preparatory to the long march back to the southern sands.

Rain was indeed falling where we halted for prayer.

1 The significance of this was that my Rashid and Murra companions
felt secure from one another and from the Manasir.

[ 297 ]

BANAIYAN TO THE SEA

Close by on a stone an owl sat blinking, and allowed a Badu
to creep up within thirty yards of it, seeming to know how
difficult a target it made, for the shot having missed, it
calmly perched itself within close range of another rifle, and
only took clumsily to wing when that shot also went wide.

My companions remarked the footmarks of asses an hour
later when we passed the six-fathom water-hole of Zurga,
the water supply of the well-to-do of Doha. Following the
beaten track at a sluggish pace, we saw in the distance a
large herd of camels grazing - sign that hereabouts were
probably the most favoured pastures in the neighbourhood.
Talib was sent ahead again to investigate, while my
companions talked hopefully of a milk dinner. Unrealised
hope - though Talib brought back a large clod of dates
from the single slave herdsman he had found in charge of
the Qatar camels. To me it seemed likely that he had
deprived the poor wretch of the bulk of his food supply -
the dates sufficed for the whole of my party that night - but
it is desert pride and desert law to give generously to-day
to the passing guest, and to-morrow to know hunger and
be without the means of appeasing it.

It was a bleak, bitter evening; no stick of firewood
anywhere availed, only miserable fires of dung were
possible. Drizzling rain fell through the night, and I woke
to find my blankets drenched; so that to breakfast in the
dry I lay under my camp table. But it was to be my last
breakfast in the desert, and so whatever the conditions, they
could be supported cheerfully.

We were arriving. The Badawin moved forward at a
sharp pace, chanting the water chants. Our thirsty camels
pricked up their ears with eager knowingness. The last
sandhill was left behind. After the next undulation we saw

[298]

JOURNEY’S END

in the dip of the stony plain before us Na’aija, where we had
planned a final watering, and beyond it the towers of Doha
silhouetted against the waters of the Persian Gulf. Half an
hour later we entered the walls of the fort. The Rub’ al
Khali had been crossed.

[ 2 99 3

APPENDIX I

THE RACIAL CHARACTERS OF THE
SOUTHERN ARABS

BY SIR ARTHUR KEITH AND
DR. WILTON MARION KROGMAN . 1

I n a letter written from Muscat early in 1930, and
addressed to the President of the Royal Anthropological
Institute, Captain Bertram Thomas made the following
statement: ‘From consideration of language, tradition and
culture, there would appear to be little doubt that 1-8 of
my list belong to non-Arab remainders in Arabia, and as I
pointed out in my contribution to the Journal ( Journ .
Roy. Anthrop. Institute , June 1930) they would appear
to be more kindred with Hamites on the other side of
the Red Sea than the familiar Arab of Central and North
Arabia.’

A year later, in his second paper to the Royal Anthropo-
logical Institute (July 1931), Captain Thomas again
emphasised the Hamitic traits of the South Arabs. ‘After an
experience of fifteen years’ sendee,’ he said, ‘living in close
terms of intimacy with its peoples in Mesopotamia, Trans-
Jordania, and the Persian Gulf, I am struck by the
peculiarities of the inhabitants of the Central South.’ He
also cited opinions which had been formed concerning the
racial nature of the South Arabs by Captain Richard
Burton and by Maj. -General Maitland. Burton regarded

1 At the time of this happy partnership Dr. Krogman was carrying out
anthropological enquiries in the laboratories of the Royal College of Surgeons,
being then (1 930-31) a United States National Research Council Fellow.

[ 3 QI ]

APPENDIX I

the Arabs of the eastern and south-eastern wilds as re-
presenting the aborigines of the great peninsula. Maitland
formed a very similar opinion. ‘The Arabs of South
Arabia are smaller, darker, coarser featured and nearly
beardless. All authorities agree that the Southern Arabs
are nearly related in origin to the Abyssinians, yet
strange to say it is the Egypto-African race who are
the original Arabs, while the stately Semite of the
north is Arab by adoption and by residence rather than
by descent.’

Thus Captain Thomas’s own experience has led him to
form an opinion of the racial affinities of the South Arabs
very similar to that held by Burton and by Maitland -
namely that their nearest kin is to be sought for amongst
the peoples on the African side of the Red Sea rather than
in the Semitic parts of Northern Arabia. Several questions
which he put to the fellows of the Royal Anthropological
Institute as he concluded his second paper reveal the fact
that he awaited expert advice before coming to a final
decision as to the racial nature of the unknown tribes he had
visited and measured. ‘Who and whence are these tribes?’
he asked. ‘Indigenous ? Of African origin, or have they a
common origin with African tribes, or are none of these
hypotheses tenable ?’ In this Appendix we are to attempt to
answer Captain Thomas’s questions - so far as the limited
evidence now at our disposal permits definite statements to
be made - for, beyond a doubt, there lie buried in the
sands of Arabia, materials which will yet help anthropolo-
gists not only to return definite answers to Captain Thomas’s
questions, but will also throw a new light on the history of
early man in the East.

Before we set out to discuss the Anthropology of the

[ 3° 2 ]

RACIAL CHARACTERS OF SOUTHERN ARABS

South Arabs in the light of Captain Thomas’s observations
and records let us see what the opinion of the expert
anthropologist now is. This part of our task is made easy
by the labours of Professor C. G. Seligman. 1 In 19x7 he
collected the few measurements which had been made on
natives of Southern Arabia and examined the few skulls of
Southern Arabs which had found a place in Museum
collections. His observations on the racial nature of the
South Arabs are of especial value because Seligman is also
our leading authority on the peoples who live in that part
of Africa which lies opposite to Arabia, 2 the Red Sea and
Suez Canal separating the home of the African from that of
the Arab. Now it was while collecting data concerning the
Southern Arabs that Dr. Seligman made a discovery which
greatly surprised most anthropologists. He found that a
high degree of round-headedness - brachycephaly - pre-
vailed amongst them. Why should this discovery have
taken us by surprise? For this reason: the peoples of
Africa, from the Egyptian in the north to the Bushman in
the south, are emphatically long-headed. The Arabs of
the north are also long-headed; the early inhabitants of Ur
were long-headed. We expected that long-headedness
(dolichocephaly) would sweep in an unbroken sequence
over that part of the earth which lies between Mesopotamia
in the north and Cape Colony in the south. Dr. Seligman’s
publication brought the orthodox anthropological mind up
with a jerk. The people of South Arabia we expected to be
long-headed. Dr. Seligman’s data showed the opposite was
the case; Captain Thomas’s measurements proved that the

1 Journ. Roy. Anthrop. Institute , 1917, Vol. 47, p. 214.

2 Dr. Seligman has summarised his various contributions to African
Anthropology in a small but most useful book, The Races of Africa, 1930.

[ 303 3

APPENDIX I

South Arabs are amongst the most round-headed or
brachycephalic of peoples.

Now the peoples of North-eastern Africa are long-
headed and deeply pigmented, brown in the case of the
Egyptians, black or nearly black in the case of the Somalis
and other pure hamitic peoples. In India we again meet
with long-heads and pigmented skins - varying from brown
to black. The resemblances between the natives of North-
east Africa and of the greater part of India are so numerous
that we are tempted to believe that the countries which lie
between Egypt and India had at one time been inhabited
by a dark-skinned long-headed race. We were prepared,
those of us who believed in this theory, to find that the
Southern Arab would be dark-skinned and perhaps woolly-
haired, but if he represented the original native we were in
search of, he should not have been round-headed. We have
to face this fact that the Southern Arabs are round-headed
to a remarkable degree.

Now we do not rule out the possibility of round-headed-
ness being evolved independently in widely separated
peoples. If we are to look on the South Arabs as an evolu-
tionary product of their homeland we have to suppose that
a people, originally long-headed, became in the course of
evolutionary progress round-headed. When, however, we
look at the present distribution of round-headedness and
observe that it is a characteristic of most of the peoples who
occupy a tract of Asia stretching from Afghanistan and the
Pamir in the east to Asia Minor and Syria in the west, we
must keep our minds open to the possibility of a spread of
round-headedness from the northern belt into the southern-
most part of the Arabian peninsula. There is good reason
for supposing that the whole of Arabia, instead of being as

[ 3°4 ]

RACIAL CHARACTERS OF SOUTHERN ARABS

now a waste of sands was, in pleistocene times, even perhaps
as late as the neolithic phase of our period, one of the most
fertile and pleasant parts of the earth. There must have
been, in this long period of time, many opportunities for a
break through of the round-heads from the uplands of
Western Asia southwards long before the historic period
began. The Hittites, nearly allied to the modern Ar-
menians, were of the round-headed belt, and they may have
pushed colonies to the south. It was an explanation of this
kind which Dr. Seligman offered in explanation of the
round-headedness of the South Arabs. He postulated an
Armenoid admixture in the south bringing with it round-
headedness. A number of other features, including a
convex or parrot-beaked nose, is one of these. He looked on
the South Arab as being no more hamitic in character or
origin than the North Arab. They were both Semites, both
true Arabs. Now, in coming to this conclusion, Dr.
Seligman was weighed by characters of the skull, whereas
Captain Thomas, Captain Burton and Maj. -General Mait-
land, in attributing aboriginal and hamitic qualities to the
South Arab, were weighed by skin, hair, language and a
hundred other features the racial value of which we shall
discuss presently.

No matter what our opinion may be of the racial nature
of these southern tribes, we must regard them, and speak
of them, as South Arabs. All observers agree in recognising
a profound difference between the Arab of the north and
the Arab of the south. It so happened that at the time
Captain Thomas was measuring the heads of southern
tribesmen, Mr. Henry Field, Curator of Anthropology in
the Field Museum, Chicago, was applying callipers to a
tribe of true Badawin Arabs in the neighbourhood of

u [ 305 ]

APPENDIX I

Kish, Mesopotamia. How different the North Arab is
from the South, in shape and size of head, will be seen
from the appended chart. Fig. i. In that chart the
Kish Badawin (38 in number) are represented by o’s,
while Captain Thomas’s Arabs (40 in number) are de-
picted by «’s. The reader will quickly grasp the manner
in which such a chart is constructed. The vertical lines
indicate length of head, beginning at 160 mm., a very
short head, and ending at 210 mm. - which is a very long
head.

The horizontal lines, on the other hand, indicate width
of head, beginning at 1 20 mm., a very narrow head, and
ending at 160 mm., a very wide head. A man with a head
190 mm. long and 130 mm. wide is indicated on the chart
at the point where the corresponding vertical and horizontal
lines cross. Four diagonal lines, 70, 75, 80, 85, mark the
boundaries between five groups of differently shaped heads.
In such heads as fall above the ‘70’ line the width is 70 per
cent, or less of the length; such heads are very narrow -
ultra dolichocephalic . The heads which fall below the 85
line have a width which is 8 5 per cent, or more of the
length; such heads are very round - ultra-br achy cephalic.
In the chart it will be observed that only South Arabs fall
in the ultra-brachy cephalic group; only Kish Arabs in the
ultra-dolichocephalic group. The heads which fall between
the ‘75’-‘8 o’ lines -whose width varies from 75 per cent,
to 80 per cent, of the length - form an intermediate or
mesocephalic group. In this intermediate group fall both
North and South Arabs, but in the six South Arabs in this
group two were Somalis. The normal long heads fall
between the ‘70’-' 75’ lines, constituting the dolichocephalic

[ 3° 6 ]

IZOrrm.

LENGTH of HEAD

FIG. I. CHART TO SHOW THE SIZE AND SHAPE OF HEAD.

(l) IN TRUE BADAWIN OF THE NORTH; (2) ARABS OF THE SOUTH.

fy/DT/i of HEAD

APPENDIX I

group - men whose heads have a width which is over 70
per cent, and under 75 per cent, of the length. Not a single
South Arab falls in this group - only the northern or true
Arab. Similarly there is a round-headed or brachycephalic
group whose percentages - or head indices - fall above 80
per cent, and under 85 per cent. Only two northern
representatives fall in this group; all the others are of the
south. Thus if we sum up the results depicted in our chart
we find that the numbers in each head group are as follows:

Ultra- Dolicho- Meso- Brachy- Ultra-

Dolichocephalic. cephalic. cephalic. cephalic, brachycephalic.

North Arabs 8 22 6 2 o

South Arabs o o 6 13 21

As regards head forms the Northern and Southern Arabs
represent opposite extremes - the North Arab being an
extreme dolichocephal, the South Arab, an extreme brachy-
cephal. Indeed, as regards the proportion which the width
of the head bears to the length, the North Arab is more
hamitic than him of the south. We shall return to the value
of head indices for the purposes of racial discrimination. In
the meantime there is a further character brought out in
our chart which deserves consideration. Actual size of head
is, we believe, as important as shape of head in our search
for racial affinities; even more so when we wish to make an
estimate of the brain endowment of a people. The length
and width of a head give only a crude indication of brain
volume. Yet in a preliminary survey, such as this is, length
and breadth dimensions do bring out a remarkable charac-
ter of the Arabs - both of the north and of the south -
namely the smallness of their head and brains. One
of us (W. M. K.), has introduced two curved lines in
the chart, Fig. 1. Head dimensions increase progressively

[ 3°8 ]

RACIAL CHARACTERS OF SOUTHERN ARABS

from the top left-hand corner to the bottom corner on the
right. The curved lines are so drawn as to divide heads into
three size-groups. Those which fall above and to the left
of the line A, A are small , 1325 cubic centimetres or under,
those which fall below and to the right of the line B, B, are
1 475 cubic centimetres or over - large heads, while those
falling between the two lines are intermediate or medium in
size. As regards size of head the Badawin of the north
stands to the tribesman of the south as follows:

Small- Medium* Large -

fheaded. [headed. headed.

North Arab 10 25 3

South Arab 33 7 o

We thus see that Captain Thomas’s tribesmen are not
only very round-headed but also predominantly small-
headed - when compared with the true Badawin. But as
regards size of head even the Badawin occupies a relatively
low position; only three of the thirty-eight fall into the
upper group - fall above the cranial capacity of an
average Englishman - which we may assess at 1475
cubic centimetres. Exposure to desert conditions may
help to preserve or stimulate certain qualities of body
and mind, but such conditions apparently have not
encouraged brain growth. The men found in ancient
graves of Ur by Mr. Leonard Woolley and assigned by
him to the 4th millennium b.c. were both long-headed
and big-headed.

Our chart has brought out very decisive differences
between the shapes and sizes of head of the South Arabs
measured by Captain Thomas, and the Kish Badawin
measured by Mr. Henry Field, but our analysis has brought
us no nearer to a decision concerning the racial affinities of

[ 3°9 3

APPENDIX I

the South Arab. To what great branch of the human stock
are we to assign the people measured and photographed by
Captain Thomas in South Arabia? Let us begin with the
natives of the south-east corner of the peninsula — the Omani.
In Fig. 2 an Omani is viewed in profile; the head above
the ears seems lofty; its occiput rises steeply from the neck;
the ears are planted very near to the back of the head - as
in short-headed or brachycephalic peoples. This man’s
head index is 82-7 -the width is 82-7 per cent, of the
length. The nose is long, prominent and aquiline seen
in full face, Fig. 3. We also note the full, prominent
lips and the sparse distribution of beard under the lower
lip and on the upper cheeks. The hair of the head is black
and with no tendency to curl. The face is long, the colour
a sallow brown, the stature 5 ft. 6| in. In Fig. 4 is repro-
duced a profile of a typical Armenian of Asia Minor, one
chosen by Austrian anthropologists to represent the Ar-
menoid type. The head is more lofty, the occiput more
flattened, and the nose more prominent and Semitic, than
the corresponding features in the Omani. There are a
multitude of minor differences between this Armenian and
our Omani yet there are resemblances in the points just
mentioned which lead us to regard the two as members of
the same basal stock — whatever name we may choose to
give the flat-occiputed people of Asia Minor. Then in
Fig. 5 is reproduced the profile of a peculiar tribe of Madras
and numbered by Thurston amongst the tribes native to
that presidency. Here again we meet with the leading
Armenoid features - but the resemblances which link the
Omani to this peculiar type of Madrasee are closer and
more numerous than those which link him to the true
Armenian of Asia Minor.

[ 310 ]

RACIAL CHARACTERS OF SOUTHERN ARABS

Now although the Armenian is native to Asia Minor,
the home of the Armenoid type - the people with flat
occiputs, lofty heads, prominent aquiline noses and long
faces - is a wide tract of Asia stretching from the Pamir
to the Levant. How, then, are we to account for the
prevalence of the Armenoid features at Oman and ’
in certain districts of India, for we cannot suppose
that the Armenoid type has arisen in India except
by transportation. The only explanation which appeals
to us is an early trade migration from Persia or an
adjacent country along the Persian Gulf to India.
The discoveries of Sir John Marshall in the valley
of the Indus prove that Mesopotamia and north-western
India were linked by trade as early as the 4th
millennium b.c. We suppose that somehow the brachy-
cephalic people of the Pamir-Levant tract broke south-
wards and implanted their predominant traits at various
points on the Persian Gulf and further afield. We
thus agree with Dr. Seligman as far as the Omani is
concerned; this type shows certain Armenoid features.
Yet besides these, it does possess many others which
link it with Captain Thomas’s tribes along the southern
coastlands of Arabia.

It will be well that we should here break the thread of
our argument which seeks to demonstrate hamitic traits in
the South Arabs - in order that we may introduce a relevant
piece of evidence derived from the study of skulls. In the
Museum of the College of Surgeons there are two skulls
which we must describe to bring out the fact that the
brachycephaly of the South Arabian tribes is not the same
as that seen in the Omani and in true Armenians. One of
these skulls is from Oman and shows quite decided

[ 3 ir 3

APPENDIX I

Armenoid features. The other is a skull obtained by
Captain Thomas from a pre-Islamic grave - in the central
south - and which show's a form of brachycephaly very
different from that found in Armenoid skulls (see Figs. 6,
8). The following account has been drawn up by one of
us (W. M. K.):-

‘Captain Thomas was able to bring back with him only one skull, with
jaw missing, representative of the South Arabian tribes. It was “unearthed
from a rock tomb in South Arabia. Practically nothing else remained but
dust. This form of burial in a bricked-up cavity in the rock was prevalent
in pre-Islamic times, and is now only resorted to when a traveller dies and
his companion has not the means to dig an orientated grave in the orthodox
fashion.” The skull is probably that of a young male adult approximately
25-3° years of age. The sex characters are very weakly developed. The
forehead is smooth, with glabella only slightly accentuated; inion is only
faintly indicated; the mastoids are small; the palate is very small and shallow;
and the entire lower portion of the face is slight, though this impression is
enhanced by alveolar absorption attendant upon the loss of the right first and
second incisors.

The sutures of the vault are patent, with a suggestion of beginning closure
in the posterior portion of the sagittal. They are all simple, with the lamb-
doid the most complex. It is worthy of note that there is a fronto-temporal
articulation on the right side.

The skull is brachycephalic (C.I. 8c- 12; the index is 82-1 if corrected to
the living by adding 8 mm. to length and i o mm. to width), and moderately
high, orthocephalic (H-L.I. 76-8; corrected to living, 74-16). The occipital
arc is well developed, the post auricular length being 53 per cent, of the
total skull length. From its vertical aspect the skull is roughly ovoid, with
the left parieto-occipital arc markedly more developed.

The face is low (upper face index 49-5)- The zygomatic arches are com-
paratively slight and arise from the maxillae in a gradual upward and lateral
sweep, and keep well within the contour of the cranium. The maxillary
portion of the face is extremely short. The nasal aperture is of medium
width, mesorrhine (N.I. 48-5) and is small and oval in shape. The inferior
nasal margin is sharply demarcated and the nasal spine prominent. The
nasal bridge is well elevated and the nasal bones meet at a fairly sharp angle.
Seen laterally, however, the nose is not markedly prominent. Nasion is not
depressed. The orbits are of medium height, mesoconchic (O.I. 81-5).

[ 3 12 ] "

RACIAL CHARACTERS OF SOUTHERN ARABS

They are rectangular in shape, slightly oblique, and everted infero-
laterally.

The palate is very small, shallow, and parabolic in shape. All the teeth
are missing, right upper incisors having been lost ante-mortem, the rest
post-mortem.

The face in its entirety is orthognathous (Gnathic Index 88-3).

In order to emphasise the uniqueness of this type, it will be well to com-
pare it with that of the skull of an Omani preserved in the Royal College of
Surgeons Museum, as representing a possible “Armenoid” influence in
Southern Arabia (see Figs. 7, 9).

This skull, complete with mandible, is that of an adult male approxi-
mately twenty-five years of age. The sutures of the vault are patent and of
average complexity, the lambdoid being most complex, the coronal next,
and the sagittal quite simple. The sex characters are, in general, weak,
though not so faint as in the preceding skull; the supraorbital ridges and
inion are not strongly marked, the mastoids are rather small but glabella is
fairly prominent.

The skull is markedly round, brachycephalic (C.I. 86-9; corrected to
living 88-7), and is high, hypsicephalic (L-H.I. 84-1; corrected to living
80-2). The most prominent feature, however, is the strongly flattened
occiput, so that the post-auricular length of the skull is but 45 per cent, of
its entire length. Seen from its vertical aspect the skull is asymmetrically
round, the left parieto-occipital area being greater than the right.

The face is long, the upper face index being 93 •?. The zygomatic arches
are strong, but do not project beyond the cranial contour to give “high
cheek-bones.” They arise abruptly from the maxillae, sweep laterally, and
are deeply notched at the maxillo-malar suture. The nasal aperture is
narrow, leptorrhine (N.I. 43' 6) with a sharp inferior margin and a well-
developed nasal spine. The nasal bridge is narrow, forms a sharp angle, and
is prominent viewed from the lateral aspect. Nasion is not depressed. The
orbits are high, hypsiconchic (O.I. 89.7), and while only slightly oblique
laterally, are strongly everted at their infero-lateral margins.

The palate tends to be U-shaped and of average depth. The teeth are
small, particularly the third molar.

The entire face is orthognathous (Gnathic Index 89-4).

The mandible has a robust corpus and a broad ascending ramus. The
sigmoid notch is shallow and the coronoid process projects but little above
the level of the condyles. The chin is well developed. The arch is U-shaped
and the teeth small. The first molar has a rudimentary fifth cusp, while the
second and third are -j — shaped.

C 3 1 3 ]

6*088 HAS I K, SOUTH ARABIA

Figure 6 e

FIG. 6. PROFILE OF SKULL OF SOUTH ARAB (HASIK) TWO-THIRDS

NATURAL SIZE.

6 093 OMAN

Figure 7

FIG. 7 . PROFILE OF SKULL OF OMANI (ARMENOID TYPE) REDUCED
TWO-THIRDS NATURAL SIZE.

U,UJ S II 001 09 09 02 09 0 02 02 09 09 OOI"^

APPENDIX I
CRANIAL MEASUREMENTS

Skull L

B Ht. OH.

FL. UFL. BIZY. NL NB OW OH BN

BA Capacity,

6'o88 171-0

Hasik

137 ° I 33'5 H4\5

— 610?

123-2 47-0

22-8 39-5 1

32-2 94-5

83-5

1365 cc

6093 162-8

Oman

141-5 i37'o 116-5

1190 71 0

127-0 56-5

24-6 39 O 3

350 113-0

101*0

1300

CRANIAL INDEXES

Skull

B H

FL

U-F-L

NB

OH

BA

L L

BIZY.

BIZY.

NL

OW

BN

6-o88

Hasik

80-12 76-8

—

49‘5

48-5

81-5

88-3

6-093

Oman

86-9 84-1

93‘7

55-9

43-6

89-7

89-4

The foregoing cranial measurements and indexes demonstrate the essential
differences between the two skulls, the Hasik approximating the South
Arabian type, while the Oman is typical of a group with a marked Armenoid
influence. It is interesting to note that the hypsicephaly of the Oman skull
is chiefly gained by sub-auricular depth, the two skulls being nearly of the
same auriculo-vertical height. The cerebellar capacity of the Oman type
is thus the greater.’

From Dr. Krogman’s measurements and comparisons it
will be seen that the roundedness of the Omani skull differs
in several important respects from that of other South
Arabs. In the Omani and Armenian skulls shortness is due
to great flattening of the occiput and curtailment of the
post-auricular part of the skull. In the South Arab the
shortness is not due to post-auricular flattening and
shortening. Nevertheless, we must admit that even in the
tribes of the central south - individuals occur with high,
straight occiputs, with beak-like or aquiline noses, so that if
the Armenoid influence is much less marked in the tribes

1 Dacryon, left side. 2 Dacryon, right side.

[316]

APPENDIX I

examined by Captain Thomas than among the Omani, yet
it does seem probable that a people with Armenoid
characters has at some past period mingled its blood with
that of the ancestors of the southern tribes. This admission
does not mean that we assign the South Arabs to the
Armenoid Caucasian stock.

Before proceeding to discuss the racial traits revealed in
Captain Thomas’s photographs of South Arabs it may be
well to touch here on the kind of evidence which should
guide us in fixing the place of a newly discovered people in
any scheme of racial classification. Professional anthropolo-
gists have unconsciously given the impression that a race of
mankind can be identified only by measurement of head,
body, of colour of skin, of texture of hair - by calculating
indices, etc. Now if we are to build up a scientific system
of knowledge concerning races - a system to which every
worker can add his quota, then exact instrumental measure-
ments must be made. But we should never forget that every
man and woman born into this world is an anthropologist
by nature - a student of the breeds of mankind. We need
no technical aid to help us to identify negro, Chinaman,
European, Bushman, etc., as they pass us in the street; a
cast of the eye is sufficient to weigh a hundred and one
diagnostic features. Explorers and travellers become
wonderfully expert at identifying at sight members of
tribes and of peoples, wherever they meet them; by merely
glancing at them they can often assign them to their native
localities. We can never hope to make our technical
methods yield us so delicate and so reliable results in racial
identification as are reached by travellers dependent merely
on their senses and j udgment. For instance, Captain Thomas
cites the opinion of the Sultan of Muscat in support of his

[3i8]

RACIAL CHARACTERS OF SOUTHERN ARABS

contention that the affinities of the South Arabs are with
the races of North-east Africa rather than with those of
Northern Arabia. Such an opinion deserves consideration;
from day to day the Sultan has to make racial identifications
and has a wide experience of the peoples who live on the
coastlands from Zanzibar to Bombay. It is by exercise of
these natural gifts that Captain Thomas has come to the
conclusion that the South Arab should be placed amongst
the hamitic rather than among the Semitic races of mankind.
A survey of his photographs leads us to support this
conclusion. The South Arab presents us with a strange
blend of characters. His fuzzy hair, his face often almost
beardless, his dark complexion - almost black, his small
body and some of his facial features are reminiscent of
races in the neighbouring parts of Africa - Somali, Danakil,
Hadendoa, Egyptians - both predynastic, and dynastic and
modern. But there are many other features which are
Caucasian - to be more precise, Semitic Caucasian. The
large luscious dark eye is met with in North Arabia as well
as in the south. The facial features and expression, the nose
and lips - often full - are Caucasian. And yet amongst
them, especially in childhood, we come across features which
recall those of the native of southern India. Some of the
women are hamitic in their facial traits, and yet again, as
we shall point out presently, individuals occur in the
south with the same ram-faced countenance as we meet
with so frequently in Persia and Afghanistan, the Pamir
and valleys in the western flanks of the Himalayas. The
North Arab (Badawin) to the tutored eye is wholly
Caucasian or Semitic Caucasian. The South Arab in com-
parison is only half a Caucasian; the rest are Hamitic -or
Dravidian.

[ 3 r 9 ]

APPENDIX I

Now when anthropologists meet with a people who
exhibit mixed characters they are apt to at once presume
that such a people is of hybrid origin. The mere fact that
Armenoid traits occur in the natives of South Arabia gives
support to such an interpretation. We have still, even while
admitting an Armenoid admixture, to explain the hamitic
traits we find in the south.

We shall now proceed to develop a new theory which
helps us to understand why the people of South Arabia
should resemble adjacent natives of Africa on the one hand
and those of India on the other. We have also to account
for the Armenoid traits. The new data placed at our dis-
posal by Captain Thomas’s daring expeditions into
unknown territory lend support to the theory which we
are now to put forward.

The enigma of modern anthropology is the Black Belt of
mankind. It commences in Africa and peters out amongst
the natives of the Melanesian Islands of the Pacific. At each
extremity of the belt, in Africa as in Melanesia, we find
peoples with black skins, woolly hair, more or less beardless,
prognathous and long-headed. We cannot suppose these
negro peoples, although now widely separated, have been
evolved independently of each other. We therefore suppose
that at one time a proto-negroid belt crossed the ancient
world, occupying all intermediate lands, Arabia, Baluchi-
stan, India, Further India, the Philippines and Malay
Archipelago. We further suppose that intermediate parts of
the proto-negroid belt became transformed, giving rise to
the hamitic peoples of Africa and to their cousins the
Dravidian and brown-skinned peoples of India. On our
theory, the Arabian Peninsula was at one time occupied by
a people intermediate to the Somalis on the one hand and

[ 3 2 ° 3

RACIAL CHARACTERS OF SOUTHERN ARABS

to the Dravidian peoples of India on the other. Then, at an
uncertain date, the great Black Belt was broken into by two
great eruptions from the north. The Mongolian stock,
evolved to the north of the Himalayas, broke southwards
into Further India, the Malay Archipelago, and reached
the islands of the Pacific, obliterating, except in isolated
areas, the people of the proto-negroid belt, thus isolating
the people of India from those of Melanesia. There was
another racial break-through which separated - in a racial
sense - India from Africa. The meagre evidence at our
disposal leads us to believe that the Caucasian stock was
evolved in Western Asia north of the highlands which join
the Himalayas to the mountain chains of Asia Minor. The
Caucasian stock broke southwards into the Arabian penin-
sula and the lands which link Mesopotamia to the Punjab,
Persia, Baluchistan and Afghanistan. At the time of the
Caucasian break-through - probably in late pleistocene
times, Arabia was a well-watered and fertile land - a land
to tempt a race of adventurous hunters. If our theory is
well founded then we ought to find in the extreme south -
if anywhere - traces of the original hamitic population of
Arabia. We may reasonably suppose that long before the
Caucasian invaders had penetrated to the southern extremity
of the peninsula they had absorbed native hamitic blood;
or, to state the matter somewhat differently, the native
peoples of the south would have absorbed much invading
blood. At least such a theory helps us to explain the racial
characteristics which Captain Thomas observed in the
South Arabs. Only our theory was formulated before
Captain Thomas’s observations were at our disposal.

How are we to account for the round-headedness of the
South Arab ? Although he has not the flat high occiput of
x [ 3 21 ]

APPENDIX I

the Armenoid he is extremely round-headed. South
Arabia is an oasis of brachycephaly in a wide desert of
dolichocephaly. It is improbable that the South Arab came
by the roundness of his head by independent evolution;
most likely the character was introduced from the north.
Were the original Caucasian invaders of the peninsula
round-headed ? The evidence derived from the ancient
graves of Mesopotamia is against such a supposition, for the
early inhabitants of Mesopotamia, so far as we yet know
them, had long and big heads. It does seem possible that
Southern Arabia was not invaded from the northern base of
the peninsula but from lands on the eastern side of the
Persian Gulf and Gulf of Oman. To the north of these lands
lies the chief centre of Caucasian brachycephaly. It is not
to Armenia but to Baluchistan and Persia that we would
seek for the originals of the round-head of South Arabia.
The Yaf‘i soldier squatting in the front row, the second
on the spectator’s left (in the illustration facing pp. 24-25),
reproduces features often met with in countries to the east
and north of the Persian Gulf.

We have now done with theory and must deal with
anthropological matters of much greater importance - the
records made of the South Arabs by Captain Thomas -
particularly his measurements and photographs. The part
of the report' which follows has been drawn up by one of
us (W. M. K.), but for the statements made both authors
are responsible.

‘The data placed at our disposal by Bertram Thomas has proved of great
value, not so much in interpreting a puzzling racial situation, as in suggesting
lines of racial contact and hinting at the modus operandi of human evolution.
Indeed, we may add that its greatest value lies in the fact that it presents
important problems to be solved only by subsequent exhaustive research.

The head measurements taken have been onlv two in number the

[ 3 22 3

MEASUREMENTS OF S. ARABIAN TRIBES

length , taken as glabellar — inion length, and breadth , greatest breadth
wherever found. The resultant index, the cephalic index, offering a length-
breadth ratio, has long been a favourite measure of racial comparison. In
this report the measurements of only forty-two subjects are considered,
and of these, thirty-seven are adult and five are children. Furthermore, the
forty-two subjects are divided among ten tribes: Somali (six), Yaf‘i (five),
Masha’i (one), Mahra (five), Oara (seven), Shahari (nine), A 1 Kathiri (four),
Bautahari (one), Harasis (one), and Omani (three). The conclusions to be
drawn, therefore, are only tentative. The important fact remains, however,
that the material at our disposal is significant for the very reason that within
its limited range it offers several clues to racial origins in South Arabia.

The cephalic index, objectively considered, permits of a very rough
classification into long-heads and round-heads, with intermediate gradua-
tions. In doing so, however, it tends to neglect the relative proportions
which have gone into its make-up. It must be self-evident that the brachy-
cephaly of one people may not be like that of another; the first may have
achieved round-headedness by a very short skull; the second by a very
broad skull. The absolute dimensions, therefore, become of importance in
the detailed analysis of cranial form.

With the exception of the Somali, all of the South Arabian tribes measured
by Bertram Thomas are brachycephalic, confirming the earlier investiga-
tions of Professor C. G. Seligman. 1

The average head measurements and indexes are given as follows, the
tribes being grouped according to geographic location, west to east, for
reasons we shall make clear later on:

LIST OF MEASUREMENTS OF SOUTH ARABIAN TRIBES
MADE BY BERTRAM THOMAS

Group.

Somali:

Age.

Stature.

Length.

Breadth.

Index.

1

20

5' 4f"

*63

130

79-75

2

20

5' 4i"

05

r 37

78-28

3

20

5' 4 F

169

138

81-65

4

3°

5' 8*'

04

142

8i-6i

5

32

5' W

188

*47

78-19

6

3 6

5' 10"

x 80

144

8o-oo

Averages

5'6r

I74-83

139-66

79-9 1

1 Seligman, C. G. - ‘Physical Character of the Arab,’ J.R.A.I. , 47
1917, pp. 214-37.

[ 3 2 3 ]

APPENDIX I

Group.

Age.

Stature.

Length.

Breadth.

Index.

Yaf’-h

1

20

5 ' 2 V

184

151

82-09

2

22

5 ' 2 i"

165

142

86-o6

3

2 3

5 ' 4 ''

174

137

7®'73

4

25

5 ' *i'

180

141

7 8 ‘33

5

28

5 ' 5V

I 73

144

83-23

Averages

5 ' 3 i"

1 75-20

143-0

8 1 -68

Masha'i:

1

40

5' 4!"

174-00

15-000 86-20

Mahra:

X

20

5 ' 3 "

167

148

88-62

2

23

5 ' 5 "

163

148

90-79

3

27

5 ' 3 !"

J 75

H 3

81-71

4

27

5 ' 5 "

167

144

86-22

5

34

5 ' 8"

172

148

86-04

Averages

5,

168-80

146-20

86-67

Qara:

1

9 1

3' nf

158

148

93-67

2

1 1

4 ' nf

l6 3

Hi

86-50

3

12 2

4 ' 8f

168

140

83-33

4

15

5 ' 7 "

162

154

95-06

5

33

5 ' 9 "

168

146

86-90

6

35

5 ' 4 "

165

150

90-90

7

40

5 ' 5 "

168

H 7

87-50

Averages

5' 6f 3

164-57

146-57

89-12

2 Son of seven. 3 i to 3 excluded.

[ 3 2 4 ]

1 Mahra mother.

MEASUREMENTS OF S. ARABIAN TRIBES

Group .

Stature . Length .

Breadth .

Index .

Shahari :

I

18 1

5 ' 3 t"

164

150

91-46

2

20

5' 2"

164

150

91-46

3

24

5 ' 3 i"

168

148

88-09

4

30

5 ' 1"

5 1 4 *

5 ' 8"

03

146

84-39

5

33

170

146

85-88

6

40

181

151

83-43

7

40

5 ' 4 "

05

I 5 i

86-28

8

47

5 ' 5 "

162

158

97-53

9

60

5 ' 0'

171

H 3

83-59

Averages

5 ' 3 i" i6 977

1 Son of nine.

149-22

88-12

Al Kathiri :

i

1 1

5 a - 4 ' 6"

i 53

138

90-19

2

35

5' 6"

170

148

87-06

3

35

5, r

163

150

92-02

4

35

5 ' 5 "

163

150

92-02

Averages

5' 5I" 1 162-25

1 1 excluded.

146-50

90-32

Bautahari :

I

40

5 ' 7 "

182-00

144-00

79-12

Harasis :

I

22

5' ii'

174-00

145-00

83-33

Omani :

I

21

5 ' 4 i'

167

144

86-23

2

26

5 ' !o"

171

148

86-55

3

47

5 ' 61 "

04

144

82-76

Averages

5 ' 1 "

[ 3 2 5 ]

170-66

145-33

85-18

APPENDIX I

T ribe.

TABLE I
Length.

Breadth.

Index.

Somali

I 74-83

139-66

79-91

Yaf‘i

175*10

143-00

8 1 -68

Masha’i

174-00

150-00

86-20

Mahra

168-80

146-20

86-67

Qara .

164-57

146-57

89-12

Shahari

169-77

149-22

88-02

A 1 Kathiri .

162-25

146-50

90-32

Bautahari .

182-00

144-00

79-12

Harasis

174-00

145-0°

83-33

Omani

170-66

H 5-33

85-18

This table permits of a more careful analysis of the South Arabian cranial
types included under the general term brachycephaly. Most obvious is the
transition from mesocephaly in the west to marked brachycephaly as one
goes east, though at the extreme east it decreases slightly. Of more im-
portance still is the fluctuating head length. There are three obvious group-
ings: a western, a central, and an eastern, the first and third of equal length,
the second considerably less. It is as though from the two sides influences
making for greater length were encroaching upon a possibly indigenous or
earlier shorter-headed people. Breadth does not seem to have changed
much, if one excepts the Somali who are clearly of different stock.

We have here the crux of the problem: the disentanglement of the several
strains which may have influenced the apparent diversity in cranial form.

It is well established that the northern Arabian is long-headed or dolicho-
cephalic, in keeping with the general Semitic type. We may well consider,
then, the possibility that the southern Arabian represents a northern type
influenced by a brachycephalic invader.

I hrough the courtesy of Mr. Henry Field we have been privileged to
study his unique photographic collection of Mesopotamian types, Arabs
around Kish, and a group of Baiju Badawin. With the exception of an
occasional “Semitic nose,” none of the southern Arabs resemble the northern
types in the least detail of facial feature. More important, however, is the
comparison of actual cranial measurements, which has been already illus-
trated by our chart (Fig. i, page 307).

T he very marked difference in the grouping of the northern and southern
types has already been made (Fig. 1) evident. With but few exceptions the
latter are to be found in the portion of the chart which marks off small
heads. The essential difference is seen to be one of absolute size: the northern
Arab is a relatively big-headed type; the southern Arab is small-headed.

[ 3 26 ]

A YAF‘I (in profile)

FIG. 10

MEASUREMENTS OF S. ARABIAN TRIBES

The possibility of a common origin seems remote, unless one assumes that
a tendency to brachycephaly — achieved through an intermixture with a
brachycephalic type — is accompanied by diminution in length. And, as we
shall note, this is not the case, for the Armenoid skull, pronouncedly brachy-
cephalic, is considerably longer than the skull of the southern Arabian.

In Table I we have noted that the more western tribes were less pro-
nouncedly brachycephalic and that the head length was greater. It was
hinted that this may be due to the impact of a longer-headed people from
the west, viz. North-east Africa, or to the origin of the South Arab and
Somali from adjoining parts of the original Black Belt. That a kinship
between South Arabs and Somali exists we may infer, for not only do we
have an intimation of such a conclusion in the head-form, but much more
strongly so in the facial aspect of the tribes as far east as the Mahra and the
Shahari; there is an unmistakable hamitic strain evident in this entire area.

A study of the photographs made by Bertram Thomas of the Yaf‘i
(Figs, io and 1 1), Qara (Fig. 12), Mahra (Fig. 13), and Shahara (Fig. 14),
tribesman will reveal the typical hamitic “fuzzy-wuzzy” hair, black— or
dark brown — pigmentation of hair and skin, as well as general facial simi-
larities more difficult of exact definition. A comparison with the excellent
photographs of the Hadendoa and Beni Amer by Seligman 1 will establish the
impression of hamitic affinity. At the same time it must be observed that the
southern Arabians are more fully bearded than the Hamites, though less so
than the northern Arabians.

We have thus far identified one racial strain positively manifested among
the tribes under consideration, viz. the hamitic. But we have noted that
even though the features be of this stock, the cranial form is certainly not,
for the typical Hamite is dolichocephalic. The extreme brachycephaly of
the southern Arabian leads us at once— and geographical contiguity sup-
ports us— to suspect the possibility of Armenoid influence, for this people
possesses an average cephalic index of approximately 85.

But again we must question the components of the index: how is it achieved ?
Kappers 2 gives an average length of 1 82-0 and width of 1 55'4 f ° r ‘97 Armenians,
both measurements being considerably larger than any of the averages for
our South Arabian tribes. If there has been any influence on cranial form
it must have been accompanied by an absolute decrease in dimensions.

But we may have a final check on the probability of the infiltration of an
Armenoid type — the shape of the skull itself. The Armenoid skull is

1 Seligman, C. G., p. cit.

2 Kappers, C. U. A., Contributions to the Anthropology of the IS ear East, I.
‘The Armenians,’ Vol. xxxiii, Proceedings , Amsterdam, 1930, pp. 792-801.

[ 3 2 7 ]

APPENDIX I

characterised by a greatly flattened occiput, resulting in a decreased post-
auricular dimension, and a very high vault. The living are further dis-
tinguished by a prominent “Armenoid” (“ Semitic”) nose, which, to a
lesser extent, can be discerned on the skull as a relatively prominent nasal
bridge. (See Fig. 19.)

Now, the question is, do we find these Armenoid traits among the South
Arabian tribes ? The answer is yes, though their occurrence is limited to the
extreme east and possibly south-east, among the Omani and the Harasis, the
latter being doubtful. I am referring here only to the typical cranial form.
The prominent “Armenoid” nose may be discerned as slightly more wide-
spread, extending to the Mahra-Shehera-Qara group. But even then its
occurrence is sporadic, infrequent, and it tends more toward prominent
aquilinity rather than the curved full-winged nose typical of the Armenian.

It may be well, at this stage, to make a conspectus of the relation of one
tribe to another. In Figure 15 I have plotted the average head-lengths and

lengthofhead

AVERAGE HEAD LENGTH f HEAD BREADTH
SOUTH ARABIANS MEASURED BV THOMAS
Si • SOMALI

MEASUREMENTS OF S. ARABIAN TRIBES

head-widths of the several tribes, the data for which is presented in Table I.
In addition the following comparative material is offered.

TABLE II

Tribe.

Length.

Breadth.

Index.

Muscat

i 84-35

144-58

78-28

Yemen .

180-95

1+5-50

81-07

Sheher .

180-21

145-76

80-92

Somali .

191-81

I 43 -I 9

74-79

Hadendoa

189-97

145-10

76-39

Beni Amer

190-49

142-25

74-70

Tigre .

192-10

1+3-20

74-0

Baiju Badawin

I 9 I- 37

140-26

73 -o

Armenian

182-00

155-40

85-38

A comparison of this Table with Table I brings out at once the in-
teresting feature that in all of these groups the head-length greatly exceeds
that of the South Arabian, whereas, except for the Armenian, the head-
width is about the same. In other words, the brachycephaly of the tribes
we are studying is due mainly to diminished head-length, and not to a
change in head-width, such as might be expected from an admixture with
a pronouncedly brachycephalic population. The round-headedness of the
South Arabian seems to be quite unlike that of the Armenian.

Now what does Figure 15 tell us? First of all it emphasises the small-
headedness of the groups under discussion, at the same time graphically
recording their relative isolation from other groups. Secondly, we may
note how the south-western Arabian tribes— the Yemen, the Sheher, and
Muscat— form 1 connecting links between the dolichocephalic Hamites on
the one side, and the hyper-brachycephalic South Arabians on the other.
Finally the distinctness of these tribes from the North Arabian type, and
from the Armenoid type, is clearly demonstrated.’

The South Arabians are shown to be a small-brained
people. The curved lines sloping upward from left to
right on the chart (Fig. 1) roughly delineate three levels of
cranial capacity: below 1325 c.c., from 1325 c.c. to 1475
c.c., and over 1475 c.c. This division does not hold
absolutely, for smallness in length and breadth dimensions

[ 3 2 9 ]

A CHART TO SHOW THE DISTRIBUTION OF THE VARIOUS SOUTH
ARABIAN TRIBES MEASURED BY CAPT. B. THOMAS.

A GROUP OF SHAHARA

FIC. 14

HAMUMI AND KATHIRI

FIG. l6

To face ft

MEASUREMENTS OF S. ARABIAN TRIBES

may be compensated for by an increase in height, either
basio-bregmatic or auriculo-vertical, or vice versa. Again,
length may have been achieved by large frontal sinuses,
breadth may be due in part to thickened parietal walls, and
so on, so that actual cranial capacity is lessened. In general,
however, the grouping holds.

The possibility of Armenoid influence in the Omani is at
once admitted, but it must be emphasised that only this
group possesses the typical Armenoid hypsi-brachycephaly.
The other groups are brachycephalic, to be sure, but the
head form is achieved by decreased length rather than
increased breadth. Most important, however, is the fact
that the decrease in length is not post-auricular, a trait which
is so typically Armenoid.

The conclusion seems logical, therefore, that there exists
in South Arabia a brachycephaly which is relatively unique;
a wide, short skull of medium height, but with non-
Armenoid dimensions (he. post-auricular length).

With regard to the hamitic element, its influence is to
be traced as far east as the Mahra-Qara-Shehera groups.
The fuzzy-wuzzy hair, the chin tufts, the hair and skin
pigmentation, the general facial picture, are all hamitic.
In this connection it is of import, as Capt. Thomas 1 himself
remarks, of a Qara who looked like a Bisharin, and a
Mahra who had a pronounced (Egyptian) chin.

It is, perhaps, dangerous on the strength of a few
photographs, to speak of racial resemblances, yet attention
must be drawn to the Masha’i (Figs. 17, 18), and to a
lesser extent the Kathiri (Figs. 19, 20), who give a strong
hint of the Dravidian, i.e. Tamil or Singhalese, also the

1 Thomas, B., ‘Among Some Unknown Tribes of South Arabia,’
J.R.J.I . , 1929, Vol. lix, pp. 97-1 12.

[ 33 1 ]

APPENDIX I

photographs of Shehera and Kathiri children who look
strongly ‘Indian’ (Figs. 21, 22)., The occurrence, in
South Arabia, of these types raises an interesting
question; have they an Eastern (Indian) origin, or have the
Dravidians moved in from the west, or have both come from
a common (intermediate) centre, or, finally, do both re-
present remnants of a once common aboriginal population,
the traces of which are now largely obliterated through the
impact of later waves of migration ?

In conclusion we wash to thank Captain Thomas for the
privilege he has accorded us in permitting us to assist him
with his anthropological observations. It is clear, from
wdiat we have already written, that a full knowledge of the
native peoples of South Arabia is essential to those of us
who are seeking to explain the origin and distribution of
the races of the Old World - particularly races which occupy
countries bordering on the Indian Ocean. How^ are we
to account for the resemblances of the Hamites of Africa
with the Dravidians of India? Hitherto w'e have been
hampered by lack of data. Dr. Seligman certainly rendered
anthropologists a great service by systematising the state of
knowledge concerning the native peoples of South Arabia
before Captain Thomas, taking his life in his hands,
succeeded in giving us a harvest of facts concerning
representative tribes of the ‘darkest’ part of Asia. We have
approached the problems concerning the racial nature of the
South Arab under the conviction that the various stocks or
races of mankind have evolved in an orderly way, and we
presume, until the contrary has been proved, that any given
race has come into existence under the working of evolu-
tionary processes in or near the country in which we now'
find it. Races do extend their territory; they migrate and

[ 33 2 ]

MEASUREMENTS OF S. ARABIAN TRIBES

colonise; new races can come into existence by hybridisa-
tion. If migration and hybridisation can be substantiated
by evidence - however imperfect - we accept these factors
as explanatory of the characters of a race. But we believe
that ‘intermediate’ races rarely arise by miscegenation of
two extreme types, but represent a stage in evolutionary
development which is intermediate to the two extremes. It
is from the evolutionist’s point of view we have sought to
interpret the origin of the tribes amongst whom Captain
Thomas lived in South Arabia. Our final conclusion, then,
regarding the racial nature of the South Arabs, is that they
represent a residue of hamitic population which at one time
occupied the whole of Arabia. To account for their round-
headedness and certain Caucasian features we have had to
postulate migration and miscegenation. We are aware,
however, that the anthropological facts may be explained
in ways which differ radically from the solution we have
offered. The dark-skinned indigenes of South Arabia may
have been round-headed and, at a later date, Hamites from
Africa and round-headed Caucasians may have invaded
their land and their marriage beds. For aught we know
many racial waves may have spread southwards or north-
wards in Arabia in long past times. As already said the
clues to such problems lie buried in the sands of Arabia.

[ 333 ]

APPENDIX II

ZOOLOGICAL NOTE
By w. t. calman, f.r.s.

A rabia, lying as it does on the borders of three of the
great zoological provinces into which the world is divided,
presents problems of particular interest to the zoo-
geographer. Collections of animals from this region are, there-
fore, of value for the light which they throw on these problems.
It is for this reason, and not because of the possible discoveries
of new species, that the arrival of Mr. Thomas’s collections was
eagerly awaited at the Museum.

Mr. Thomas’s two journeys have, however, additional interest,
since he traversed the unknown Rub’ al Khali and the Qara
Mountains, from which latter region, as far as I know, only one
collection of natural history objects had previously been brought
home. In 1890 Mr. and Mrs. Theodore Bent made an expedition
into the Qara Mountains and brought back a collection of plants
and lizards. The latter were described by Dr. John Anderson in
his Herpetology of Arabia, 1896.

From other parts of Southern Arabia the British Museum
has received a number of collections from residents and travellers.
From the region of Aden we have collections made by Colonel
J. W. Yerbury and Messrs. A. B. Percival and W. Dodson.
In the Yemen the well-known traveller, Wyman Bury, found
time to make extensive collections during his several journeys,
and from further north Mr. Philby has sent many interesting
specimens. From Muscat we have received collections of con-
siderable interest from Sir Percy Cox, Surgeon-General A. S.
Jayakar, Colonel S. B. Miles and Dr. G. M. Lees, while more
recently, Major R. E. Cheesman has brought back a collection
of exceptional interest from Hofuf and the Jabrin Oasis.

From this enumeration it will be evident that Mr. Thomas’s
collections go to fill up the largest blank remaining in the zoo-
geographic map of Arabia.

[ 334 ]

ZOOLOGICAL NOTE

In the lists that follow, my colleagues in the zoological and
entomological departments of the Museum give details of the
various groups of animals as far as it has been possible to work
them out at present. It must be pointed out, however, that it
in no way detracts from the interest or importance of a specimen
if we are not yet in a position to decide finally as to its appropriate
specific or subspecific name. For example, the Fennec Fox,
obtained by Mr. Thomas, will almost certainly require a new
name, but Captain Dollman very wisely refrains from calling it
a new species or subspecies until it has been possible to bring
together, and subject to critical examination, all the available
material of these animals from Africa and Northern Arabia.

Perhaps the most important result of this expedition, so far
as zoology is concerned, has been to demonstrate the absence
of any Oriental (Indian) elements in the fauna, even in this south
central region of Arabia, where, if anywhere, their presence might
have been expected. Even the Indian wolf, which we knew already
from Muscat and Aden, does not represent such an Oriental
element, for it is a species of distinctly palaearctic affinities which
extends into India from the north.

NOTES ON THE NATURAL HISTORY COLLECTIONS
by members of the Staff of the British Museum (Natural
History).

These notes are made after a first examination of the specimens.
Further investigation will be required before it can be decided
how many new species there are in the collection, but probably
some twenty or more, including a fox, a snake, and various
insects, will have to be described.

A. BIRDS. By N. B. Kinnear, m.b.o.u. (With acknowledgments
to The Ibis).

Mr. Bertram Thomas, in the beginning of 1930, made a
preliminary journey into the Rub’ al Khali as far as the edge of
the sands of Al ’Ain. During this journey he was accompanied
by his secretary, ’Ali Muhammad, who had been taught to skin,

[ 335 ]

APPENDIX II

and fifteen birds were collected, besides a number of mammals
and specimens of other orders.

Unfortunately, on his final journey this year, Mr. Thomas
had no one with him who could skin birds, and, although he
brought back interesting collections of other orders, birds were
only represented by two eagle’s eggs which he took from a nest
at Hadh, Mazarig (Central Sands). These eggs I have carefully
compared with those of all the likely birds of prey in our collection,
and though identification by eggs alone is very risky, I think
that they probably belong to the Abyssinian Tawny Eagle,
Aquila rap ax raptor.

Corvus corax ruficollis. Brown-necked Raven.

Apparently the Brown-necked Raven was not common, and
the only specimen brought back was an abnormally coloured
example from Ramlat Mugshin on the edge of the sands on
3 ist January.

Rhinocorax rhipidurus. Fan-tailed Raven.

On 19th January a female Raven was shot by Mr. Thomas at
Hailat ash Shisur (1080 feet). The skin was hurriedly removed
and a perfectly formed egg was found in the oviduct. As there
was no time to skin out the head and wings, this was delayed
till the next camp was reached, but in the absence of a lamp for
the night’s operations, and the need to make an early morning
start, the feathers began to slip before it could be attended to
and the skin had to be thrown away. The egg, however, was
kept, and this I have compared with others in the Museum Collec-
tion, and consider that in all probability it belongs to the above
species. Furthermore, when I showed Mr. Thomas skins of
the Fan-tailed Raven and the Brown-necked Raven, he assured
me that the former was the bird that was met with oftener than
the latter.

Argya squamiceps squamiceps. Brown Babbler.

The true squamiceps came from Akaba in North Arabia, and
it is also found in Palestine, Muscat (Mills, Jayakar and Cox),
and the Oman Peninsula (Lees).

[ 33 6 ]

BIRDS

The single female in the collection was collected by Mr. Thomas
at Shaiba on the north side of the Qara Mountains, amongst
some scattered frankincense trees at an elevation of 2000 feet.

Pynconotus xanthopygos xanthopygos. Arabian Bulbul.

A male was obtained amongst some acacia and palm trees
near Bin Ju’ai (if'oo feet) on the north side of the mountains.

After examining the series in the British Museum from
different parts of Arabia, I am unable to distinguish the race
reichenowi of Lorenz and Hellmayr from South-west Arabia.

Ammomanes cinctura pallida. Arabian Black-tailed Sand-Lark.

The Arabian Black-tailed Sand-Lark was originally described
from Qunfuda on the Red Sea in 1850, and seventy-nine years
later Cheesman obtained four during his expedition to the Jabrin
Oasis. Mr. Thomas obtained a female at Hailat Bil Rizaz
(1060 feet) in some scrub in open country, about 18° 2' N.

Motacilla alba subsp. ? White Wagtail.

A single example of a white Wagtail, resting on migration,
was shot by the water-hole at A 1 ’Ain on 28th January, but is
not in sufficiently good plumage to enable the race to be
distinguished.

Phoenicurus ochruros phoenkuroides. Kashmir Redstart.

A male of the Kashmir Redstart, also on migration, was
obtained at the water-hole of A 1 ’Ain in the Mugshin district
on 28 th January. Cheesman met with this Redstart at Hofuf
in January, and saw several in South Hasa in March.

Oenanthe deserti atrogularis. Indian Desert-Chat.

These Chats I identified at first as oreophila , and as such
recorded them in the Geographical ‘Journal. On further examina-
tion, however, I think they are undoubtedly Indian Desert-Chats.

Two males are in the collection, one on 28th January at A 1 ’Ain
water-hole, on the edge of the sands, and the other at Sa’atan
(2065 feet), on the north side of the Jebel Qara on 1 ith February.

Cheesman met with both of the eastern races of this migratory
Chat in the Hasa and Jabrin Deserts.

Y [337]

APPENDIX II

Falco tinnunculus tinnunculus. Kestrel.

On 2nd January a female was shot near Bu Matahan, 3070 feet,
in the Qara Mountains.

Circus macrurus. Pale Harrier.

A male in first winter plumage was obtained at Mistan in the
Qara Mountains (north side), at an elevation of 1650 feet, on
15th February.

This migratory species has been recorded at various times from
Arabia; Cheesman met with it at Hofuf in November and
December, in the Jabrin Oasis in February, and off the Hadhra-
maut coast on 1 1 th April.

Burhinus capensis dodsoni. Arabian Stone-Curlew.

There is a female in the collection which was shot on 11th
February amongst some ‘Tishgaut’-trees ( Boswellia sp., from
which frankincense is obtained) at A 1 Qatan (2500 feet), just
north of the divide on the Qara Mountains.

This Stone-Curlew was hitherto known only from the Aden
hinterland (Dodson, Meinertzhagen), the Abdali district of the
Yemen (Bury) and the north Somali coast (Zedlitz), so that this
new record is a considerable extension to its range.

Pterocles senegallus. Senegal Sand-Grouse.

At A 1 ’Ain in the Mugshin district, on the edge of the sands,
there is a spring which Mr. Thomas describes as ‘a green shallow
water-hole a yard or so in diameter,’ and ‘a few yards distant
beyond some bushes there was another water-hole which spread
out into a shallow pool.’ This apparently was a great attraction
for migrating birds as Mr. Thomas saw several there, and early
one morning, while he was waiting, a flock of 1 50 Sand-Grouse
came to drink, and he secured a male and female on 28th January.

Ammoperdix heyi intermedia. Arabian See-See.

A pair of the Arabian See-See were shot on nth February at
Saig Hawar, about 2000 feet, on the north side of the Qara
Mountains. The Arabian See-See is now known from Aden to
Muscat.

[ 338 ]

MAMMALS

B. MAMMALS. By Captain J. G. Dollman, b.a.

Asellia tridens. Leaf-nosed Bat. From cave of Sahaur (Qara
Mountains) on previous journey.

Taphozous nudiventris (Cretzschmar). The Naked-Bellied Tomb
Bat. ’Ain, 1500 feet. Collected 8th November 1930.

The genus Taphozous is found over a considerable part of
Africa (except the north-western portion), Southern Asia and
the East Indies eastward to Australia, New Guinea, and the
Philippine Islands. This species, together with the Babylonian
form ( T . babylonicus'), has been placed by some authorities in a
genus distinct from Taphozous called Liponycteris . Taphozous
nudiventris extends across tropical Africa from Nigeria to the
Sudan and Tanganyika Territory, and spreads eastwards into
Arabia.

Paraechinus dorsalis. Two hedgehogs from the fringing sands
of Umm al Hait.

Hyaena hyaena (L.). The Striped Hyena. ’Ain, Qara Moun-
tains, 1 500 feet. Mairbon, 2800 feet. Collected November 1930.

Two of these specimens are males and the other one a female.
With the latter specimen are two foetuses which show to advan-
tage the marking of the coat in this species. These Striped
Hyenas may eventually prove to differ from Asiatic and African
specimens of Hyaena hyaena. The species is one of several
carnivores common to Africa and Asia: its range extending
throughout Northern and Eastern Africa, through Syria and
Arabia to Asia Minor and India. In Africa a number of different
races have been distinguished, but they are all very alike and
doubtfully distinct.

Canis pallipes (Sykes). Indian Wolf. ’Ain, Qara Mountains,
2 poo feet. 9th November 1930.

This specimen represents the western limit of the species.

V i ulpes vulpes arabica (Thos.). Arabian Fox. ’Ain, Qara Moun-
tains, 1500 feet, 7th November 1930. Khiyut, 1750 feet, 12th

[ 339 ]

APPENDIX II

November 1930. Jurbaib, 30 feet, 18th November 1930.
Khor Salala, sea-level, 24th November 1930.

These specimens all appear to be rather blacker on the ventral
surface than the typical Vulpes vulpes arabica. The type of this
race comes from Muscat, and the Museum collection possesses
a series of specimens from various localities in Arabia, as well as
specimens from Persia and Egypt which probably belong to the
Arabian race.

Fennecus sp. Arabian Fennec Fox. One specimen.

This Fennec would appear to represent an Arabian race of the
Egyptian Fennec which is found in North and North-east Africa.
The Museum possesses one specimen from the desert of A 1
Kuwait in Arabia, which may be useful to compare with the
present specimen when the time comes for working out these
interesting foxes.

Mellivora ratel (Sparrm.). Ratel. Sha’ab Fuzul, 250 feet, 18th
November 1930.

The Ratel is found over a very great part of Africa south of
the Sahara and extends eastward into India. Very little variation
in colour or size can be found between the African and Indian
forms, and at the most they would appear to be merely geographical
races.

Gerbillus arduus (Chees. and Hint.). Arabian Gerbil. Three
specimens.

The sub-family Gerbillinae contains the African and Asiatic
Gerbils, in which the incisor teeth are grooved and the hind-feet
elongated. The Common Gerbils of Africa are placed in two
genera, Taterona and Gerbillus , the species of which are usually
bright buff or sandy in colour above and pure white below.

Arvkanthis testicularis (Sund.). Field Rat. One specimen.

The common Field Rat of Africa, Arvicanthis testicularis , is
divisible into a very large number of local races, and possibly,
when more material is available for examination, it will be found
that the Arabian Field Rat is a pale race of the typical African
Field Rat.

[ 340 ]

REPTILES AND AMPHIBIANS

Lepus omanensis cheesmani (Thos.). Cheesman’s Arabian Hare.
Yadil, iooofeet, 22nd December 1930. Ramlat Urba, 900 feet,
25th December 1930. Shanna, iooofeet, 5th January 1930.

These four specimens would appear to represent the hare
that was recently named after Major R. E. Cheesman.

Oryx leucoryx. The Arabian Oryx. A rare antelope of which
the distribution is imperfectly known.

Gazella muscatensis (Brooke). Muscat Gazelle. ’Ain al Rizat,
220 feet, 30th October 1930. Jurbaib, yo feet, 24th November

I93 °‘

This gazelle is closely allied to the Arabian Gazelle, from which
it is distinguished by its rather smaller dimensions; the tips of
the horns are usually turned sharply inward instead of forward.

Pro c avia syriaca jay akari (Thos.). Arabian Coney. Uha’az, 1800
feet, 1 2th November 1930. Deriyot, 1 750 feet, 13th November

: 93 °-

This race was described by the late Oldfield Thomas from
Dhufar in Southern Arabia. It is a close relation of the typical
Procavia syriaca syriaca , originally described by Schreber as
‘Hyrax syrtaca in 1784.

C. REPTILES AND AMPHIBIANS. By H. W. Parker, b.a.

The reptiles and amphibians collected by Mr. Bertram Thomas
are sharply divisible into two groups, corresponding with the
two contrasting climatic and vegetational zones which he visited.
Only one species is common to the two regions, and that has a
distinctive subspecies in each. The conditions of life in the arid
Rub’ al Khali demand a degree of specialisation not required
for life in the forested Qara Mountains and Dhufar littoral, but
this does not appear to have been the sole factor at work in
producing such marked differentiation. The paucity of snakes
in the desert (where only 3 species were found as compared
with 8 in Dhufar) and the relative abundance of lizards (14 species,
compared with 5 in Dhufar) may reflect the adaptability of the
two groups, but meteorological conditions can scarcely be

[34l]

APPENDIX II

invoked to account for the absence from Dhufar of such a plastic
family as the Lacertidae. A critical examination of the lists
given below shows that the Dhufar fauna has a strong Ethiopian
element, whereas that of the desert has a decided Palaearctic
facies; genera such as Psammophis , Atractaspsis and Bitis are
essentially Ethiopian, but Alsophylax , Phrynocephalus , Acantho-
dactylus and Malpolon are scarcely known outside the Palaearctic
region. It is difficult to avoid the suggestion that in Dhufar
there is a relic of the former population of Arabia, persisting
from the epoch when the Indian and Ethiopian regions were
faunistically one; desiccation destroyed this primitive fauna over
a large area, and the dry region was subsequently re-populated
from the north.

The species collected, and the approximate geographical ranges
of each are:

Qara Mountains and Dhufar Littoral.

Lizards: Geckoes, (i) Pristurus rupestris (Blanf.). Shahari : Ichera,
Ijeroh. Arabia, and Socotra to Sind. (2) Pristurus carteri
tuberculatus (Parker). Shahari : Budh. This species ranges from
Aden to Muscat, but three geographical races are recognisable,
one in the north-east, another in the south-west, and the third,
discovered by Mr. Bertram Thomas, from the southern slopes
of the Qara Mountains.

Agamas. (3) Agama sinaita (Heyden). Shahari: Zedakhait, Sida-
hait. From Libya and the Sudan to Syria and Muscat.

Skinks. (4) Chalcides ocellatus ocellatus (Forsk.). Shahari : Gemsh.
Algeria to Egypt, Syria, Cyprus, Crete, Greece, Arabia, Persia,
and Baluchistan.

Chameleon, (f) Chamaeleon calcarifer ( Peters). Shahari: Shahabel.
Aden to Muscat.

Snakes: Colubrids (Harmless). (6) Coluber rhodorhachis (Jan).
Shahari: Difen, Ojem, or Shalthum. Egypt to Somaliland,
Arabia, Syria, Persia, Baluchistan, Transcaspia, and North-
west India. (7) Coluber thomasi (Parker). Shahari: Shalthum,
another of Mr. Thomas’s discoveries; it is allied to C. variabilis
of the Aden hinterland and C. somalicus. (8) Spalerosophis

[ 342 ]

REPTILES AND AMPHIBIANS

diadema (Schlegel). Shahari: Fe’e de’e. Africa north of the
Sahara to Turkistan and North-west India.

Colubrids (slightly venomous). (9) Psammophis schokari (Forsk.).
Shahari: Ishor, Inshor. Africa north of the Sahara to Persia,
Afghanistan, and North-west India.

Cobras (venomous). (10) Naja haje (Linn.). Egyptian Cobra.
Shahari: Haut; juveniles Difen or Ojem. South-east Arabia
to the Transvaal and Zululand; westwards, north of the
Sahara, to Morocco; the present is the most northerly record.
(1 i') Atractaspis andersoni (Boulenger). Shahari: Disos. Hitherto
known only from the extreme south of Arabia.

Vipers (venomous). (12) Echis carinatus (Schneid). Shahari:
Ojem. Africa north of the Equator to Transcaspia and India.
(13) Bids arietans (Merrem), Puff-adder. Shahari: Dololat.
Africa, except the Rain Forest regions, and South Arabia;
the present is the most northerly record.

Amphibians: Frogs and Toads. (14) Bufo dhufarensis (Parker).
Shahari : Aqaqet. Discovered by Mr. Thomas and apparently
most closely allied to the North-east African toad, Bujo dodsoni
(Boulenger).

Rub' al Khali.

Lizards: Geckoes. (1) Alsophylax blanfordii (Strauch). Arabic:
Nagas Milh, Alaghaybis, or Dhatur. Egypt and South
Arabia. (2) Ceramodactylus major (Parker). Arabic : Dhatur.
Hitherto known from only two specimens, both collected by
Mr. Bertram Thomas on an earlier journey to the Rub’ al
Khali. (3) Pristurus carteri carteri (Gray). Muscat to Dhufar
hinterland.

Agamids. (4) Phrynocephalus arabicus (Anderson). Arabic : Abu
Tahay or Bu Tahaihi. Hadhramaut to the Persian Gulf.
(5) Phrynocephalus maculatus (Anderson). Arabic : Fakhakh, Bu
Radhaima or Sharaihi. Persia, Baluchistan, and East Arabia
as far south as Dhufar. (6) Agama jayakari (Anderson). Arabic :
Fakhakh. Muscat to the Dhufar hinterland, northwards to
El Qatar. (7) Uromastix thomasi (Parker). Arabic: Bu Kurdifat

[ 343 ]

APPENDIX II

or Bu Oursh. Previously known from two specimens, both
collected by Mr. Thomas. (8) XJromastix microlepis (Blanf.).
Persia and Iraq to Dhufar hinterland.

Monitors. (9) Faranus griseus (Dand.). Grey Monitor. Arabic:
Wural or Ruwal. Morocco to the Sudan, northwards to the
Caspian and North-west India.

Lacertids. (10) Acanthodactylus cantoris (Gunther). Arabic: Asa-
wada or Sauwedda. The distribution of this species, as hitherto
known, was discontinuous, no specimens having been recorded
between Persia and the Aden- Wadi Hadhramaut district of
South Arabia. The specimens in the present collection bridge
the distributional gap, but do not link the northern and
southern races in morphological characters. (11) Acantho-
dactylus scutellatus (Audouin). Arabic: Dhubdhuba. Africa,
north of the Sahara, from Cape Verde to the Sudan, Palestine
and Iraq. (12) Eremias hrevirostris (Blanf.). Arabic: Nagas
Milh. Punjab, Baluchistan, Persia, Iraq, Syria; not previously
known so far south. (13) Eremias adramitana (Boulenger).
Arabic : Suwayda. Hitherto known only from the Hadhramaut.

Skinks. (14) Scincus mitranus (Anderson). Arabic: Damusa or
Bihalaklak. Sind and South-east Arabia.

Snakes. Boas. (15) Eryx jay akari (Boulenger). Arabic: Difen.
Muscat and Yemen.

Colubrids. (16) Malpolon moilensis (Reuss). Arabic: Zaraq.
Algeria to the Sudan, northwards to Iraq and South Persia.

Vipers. (17) Cerastes cornutus (Linn.). Egyptian Horned-viper.
Arabic : Kabsh (male). Algeria to the Sudan, Arabia, Iraq.

D. LOCUSTS, GRASSHOPPERS, MANTIDS, etc. By B.

P. Uvarov.

The collection of Orthoptera made by Mr. Bertram Thomas
represents a valuable contribution to our knowledge of the
fauna of Arabia, which remains very little studied.

The following list of species is a preliminary one and full
notes on the collection, as well as descriptions of new species,
will be published elsewhere :

[ 344 ]

LOCUSTS, GRASSHOPPERS, MANTIDS
Cockroaches ( Blattidae ) :

1. Blattella mellea (Kr.). Previously known only from Aden,

but found by Mr. Bertram Thomas in several places in
the Qara Mountains.

2. Pycnoscelus surinamensis (L.).

3. Dorylaea rhombifolia (St.). These two species are associated

with man and practically cosmopolitan.

4. Hololampra sp. Probably new.

Mantids ( 'Mantidae ):

5. Eremiaphila sp. Specimens immature and indeterminable.

6. Tarachodes obtusiceps (St.). Qara Mountains. Known pre-

viously only from the Sudan, Somaliland and Erythraea,
and belonging to a purely African genus.

7. Microthespis dmitrievi (Werner). Qara Mountains. Known

from the Somali coast, South Persia and Palestine.

8. Sphodromantis sp. n. Qara Mountains. A fine new species

of a purely African genus.

9. Empusa sp. A young larva, indeterminable.

Stick-insects ( Phasmidae ) :

10. Leptynia sp. n. ’Ain al Rizat, Qara Mountains. A very
interesting new species allied to L. attenuata , Pantel,
occurring only in Portugal.

Crickets ( Gryllidae ) :

1 1 . Liogryllus bimaculatus (Deg.). Qara Mountains. A species
common in tropics of the Old World and in the Medi-
terranean countries.

12. Gryllodes sp. Rub’ al Khali. Probably a new species, but
exact determination impossible from a single female
specimen.

Long-horned grasshoppers ( Tettigonidae ):

13. Conocephalus iris (Serv.). Qara Mountains. Known only
from Africa and from its islands (Madagascar, Mauritius,
Rodriguez, Seychelles).

14. Conocephalus sp. n. South Arabian desert.

[ 345 3

APPENDIX II

Short-horned grasshoppers and locusts ( Acrididae ) :

15. Acridella grandis (Klug). Qara Mountains.

16. Acridella sp. n. Qara Mountains.

17. Aiolopus thalassinus (F.). South Arabian desert.

18. Stenohippus mundus (Walk.). South Arabian desert.

19. Morphacris jasciata sulcata (Thunb.). Qara Mountains and

South Arabian desert. Widely distributed in Africa and
South Asia.

20. Pycnodictya dentata (Kr.). Qara Mountains and South Arabian
desert. Not previously represented in the British Museum.

2 1 . Genus and sp. n. South Arabian desert. A single specimen
of a remarkable wingless grasshopper of the subfamily
Oedipodinae.

22. Sphingonotus balteatus sbsp. n. South Arabian desert.

23. Sphingonotus sp. n. South Arabian desert.

24. Acrotylus insubricus sbsp. n. South Arabian desert.

25. Trilophidia sp. South Arabian desert.

26. Tenuitarsus sp. Rub’ al Khali. (Recorded in the pre-
liminary list as Leptoscirtus sp.)

27. Chrotogonus sp. South Arabian desert.

28. Cyrtacanthacris tatarica (L.). South Arabian desert.

29. Anacridium arabicum (Uv.). Qara Mountains.

30. Sckistocerca gregaria (Forsk.). South Arabian desert. This
is the Desert, or the Bible, Locust.

3 1 . Patanga succincta (L.). South Arabian desert. A common

Indian species, never yet found so far west.

32. Catantops saucius (Burm.). South Arabian desert. An
African species.

33. Cataloipus sp. n. South Arabian desert. Belongs to an
essentially African genus.

34. Thisoicetrus continuus (Walk.). South Arabian desert. Pre-
viously recorded only from Sinai and Palestine.

35. Euprepocnemis sp. n. South Arabian desert. Indian
species, not previously recorded west of Punjab.

36. Acorypha glaucopsis{ Walk.). South Arabian desert. Another

Indian species.

37. Acorypha sp. South Arabian desert. Another Indian species.

[346]

DRAGONFLIES

It will be seen that out of the total thirty-seven species, not less
than seven are new to science, with possibly two or three more,
which have not yet been determined. The discovery of a new
genus of grasshoppers makes the scientific results of the expedition
most noteworthy, as regards this particular group of insects.

E. DRAGONFLIES. By Miss C. Longfield.

Of sixty-two specimens received, the following nine species
have been determined: 6 Libellulinae , i Coenagrionine , i Aeschn-
nine , which are all common African species, and one new species
of Urothemis.

1 . Pseudomacromia torrida (Kirby). 3 males, 1 female. Milwah

al ’Aud. 30th October. ’Ain al Rizat. 31st October.
Found in South, West and East Africa. The dimensions
of these four specimens run small, and the wings are
exceptionally deeply saffroned in both sexes.

2. Pantala flavescens (Fabr.). 1 male, 1 female. Sahalnot. 4th

November. Common nearly all over the world.

3. Trithemis annulata (Beauv.). 12 males, 1 female. Milwah al

Aud. 30th October. ’Ain al Rizat. 31st October.
Sahalnot. 4th November. Khiyut. 1 1 th November.
Common in North and East Africa and Arabia.

4. Crocothemis ery/hraea (Brulle). 10 males, 5 females. Sahalnot.

4th November. ’Ain (Qara Mountains). 9th November.
Khiyunt. 1 ith November. Flas a wide range over South
Europe, all Africa, and parts of Asia.

5. Qrthetrumc hrysostigma { Burm.). 13 males, 8 females. ’Ain

al Rizat. 1st November. Sahalnot. 4th November.
’Ain. 5th November. Khiyut. 10th November, nth
November, 13th November. Milwah al ’Aud. 30th
October. ’In. 14th November. Flas a wide range over
South Europe and Africa.

6. Diplacodes lefebvrei( Ramb.). 1 male. Sahalnot. 4th Novem-

ber. Flas a wide range over Africa to Arabia.

7. Hemianax ephippiger ( Burm.). 2 males. Sahalnot. 4th Nov-

ember. Farajja (Sanam). 21st January. Found in North
and East Africa, Arabia, Persia and North India.

[ 347 ]

APPENDIX II

8. Ceriagrion glabrum (Burm.). 3 males, 2 females. Khiyut.

nth November, 13th November. Has a wide range
over North, South, East, and West Africa. The wings of
these five Arabian specimens are extra deeply saffroned.

9. Urothemis sp. n. 1 male. ’Ain al Rizat. 31st October.

F. BUGS. By W. E. China, m.a.

The collection contains eleven bugs representing ten species
and genera. Of these species three are apparently new, three
are of wide distribution in the Eremian sub-region, one is recorded
only from Turcomania, two are of Indian origin, and one is widely
distributed in the Ethiopian and Oriental Regions and the
Mediterranean sub-region. Two of the Eremian species have
previously been recorded from Arabia, and one extends into the
Mediterranean sub-region.

On the whole, the collection corroborates the belief that Arabia
faunistically forms part of the great Eremian sub-region which
extends from Senegal and North Nigeria in the west, across the
Sahara to the Sudan, across Arabia and Persia to the Punjab and
Turkistan. There is no evidence from this group of the exist-
ence of a true Ethiopian element in the Arabian fauna.

1. Macroscytus brunneus{ F.). Fuzah, 1 350 feet. 1 4th November.

Local name, Adhayrite. Widely distributed in the Medi-
terranean, Ethiopian, and Oriental Regions.

2. Cydnus sp. nov. near pilosulus. Fuzah, 1350 feet. 14th

November. Local name, Adhayrite.

3. Amaurocoris orbicularis (Jak.). Hadh al Mazariq, 570 feet.

17th January. Recorded only from Turcomania.

4. Chroantha ornatula (H. S.). Bahat al Jamal, 550 feet. 1 5th

January. Hadh al Mazariq, 570 feet. 17th January.

Recorded from Spain, Dalmatia, Sicily, Greece, Algeria,

Tunisia, Egypt, Syria, Persia, Turcomania and Arabia.

Adria -parvula ( Dali.). Fuzah, 1350 feet. 1 4th November.

Local name, Adhayrite. Recorded from North India and

South Persia.

6. Carbula insocia (Walk.). Fuzah, 1 350 feet. 14th November.

[ 348 ]

BUGS AND BUTTERFLIES

Local name, Adhayrite. Recorded from India, both North
and South.

7. Centrocoris sp. nov., near degener (Put.). Suwahib, 600 feet.

14th January. Local name, Tassaiyah.

8. Cosmopleurus fulvipes (Dali.). Hamr al ’Ain Abn Genin.

2 1st December. Siddat al Harsha, 900 feet. Recorded
from Algerian Sahara, Egypt, Sudan, Nubia, and Persia.
Recorded food plant : Calotropus procera.

9. Dieuches sp. nov. ’Ain al Rizat, 250 feet. 31st October.

Local name, Digadig. There are in the British Museum
collection specimens from Mesopotamia.

10. Laccotrephes fabricii (Stab). ’Ain al Rizat. 31st October.
Local name, Sinortami (water -cat). Recorded from
Arabia, Suez, Sudan, Abyssinia and Senegal. Also
doubtfully from East Africa, South Africa and India.

G. BUTTERFLIES. By Captain N. D. Riley.

Fifteen species of butterfly were obtained, two of which were
new' to science, and belong to the genus Charaxes. The species
are strongly African in their affinities, as the following rough
analysis will show:

(a) Species occurring throughout Africa:

1. and to Australia:

Danais chrysippus
Precis orithya

2. and as far as India:

Teracolus Calais (India only)

Teracolus danae (India and Ceylon)

Azanus jesous (India, Ceylon and Burmah)

3. but not found east of Arabia:

Charaxes varanes bertrami
Leuceronia buquetii
Herpaenia eriphia
Sarangesa eliminata
Myrina silenus

{b) Species found only in the African savannah region (West
Africa to Sudan, Somaliland, etc.):

[ 349 ]

APPENDIX II

Charaxes hansali arabica

Teracolus evarne

(c) Mediterranean species:

Tarucus theophrastus (which also reaches India).

Apharitis myrmecophila (known only from Tunisia
and Transjordan).

(d) Almost cosmopolitan :

Pyrameis cardui (The Painted Lady).

The absence of certain species taken by Cheesman at Hofuf
and of others known to occur in the Aden district is striking, but
further collecting will probably bring some of them to light.
Cheesman ’s most remarkable find at Hofuf consisted of the two
essentially palaearctic species Papilio machaon (the Swallowtail),
and Colias croceus (the Clouded Yellow), neither of w r hich was
obtained by Mr. Bertram Thomas. Several other species,
notably the Citrus - frequenting Swallowtail Papilio demoleus ,
which is not uncommon at Muscat, might reasonably have been
expected.

On the other hand the occurrence in some numbers of the two
species of Charaxes and of the brilliant blue Myrina silenus is very
unexpected. All three are truly African insects, only the Myrina
having been recorded from any part of Arabia hitherto.

This collection, and the smaller one made by Mr. Bertram
Thomas on his expedition into the desert north-east of Salalah,
details of which are here included, show that the coastal region,
at least, of Southern Arabia is to be reckoned, as far as butterflies
are concerned, quite definitely as part of the Aethiopian faunal
region. The only butterfly obtained in the Great Southern Desert
itself was the small Lycaenid, Apharitis myrmecophila (Dumont),
belonging to the Mediterranean sub-region, which provides the
next strongest element in the fauna. There is no purely Oriental
derivative present. There exist several accounts of the butterflies
of Aden (Butler, A. G., 1884, 1886, etc,), but the only attempt
at a comprehensive treatment of the Lepidoptera of Southern
Arabia yet published is by Rebel (Denk. Kais. Akad. Wiss.,
Wien, LXXI - issued as a separate publication in 1907k

C35°]

BUGS AND BUTTERFLIES

Danaidae

Danaida chrysippus (L.).

1 d ’Ain al Rizat, 250 ft., 1.1 1.30 (No. 104).

2 $ Mitsaib, 1000 ft., 5.1 1.30 (Nos. 168, 169).

1 $ Khiyunt, 1500 ft., ri. 11.30. (No. 232).

7 d 3 ? Hamirar Road, 1500 ft., 14.1x.30 (Nos. 291, 293,
295 - 30 2 )-

1 3 ’In, 1350 ft., 15. x 1.30 (336).

1 d Fuzul, 1350 ft., 1 7. 1 1.30 (No. 354).

Of this series, 7 d 5 ? are f. chrysippus , 3d 1 $ f . dorippus.
The latter is often the predominant variety in arid regions. The
species occurs throughout Africa and Southern Asia to the
Far East and Australia, and is everywhere common.

Nymphalidae

Pyrameis cardui (L.).

x $ ’Ain, Qara Mountains, 1500 ft., 9.1 1.30 (No. 212).
Almost cosmopolitan. The single specimen obtained is un-
usually small.

Precis orithya.

1 $ Milwah al ’Aud, 220 ft., 30.10.30 (No. 35).

1 d ’Ain al Rizat, 250 ft., 1.1 1.30 (No. 106).

1 $ Sahalnot, 350 ft., 4.1 1.30 (No. 14 1).

1 $ ’Ain, Qara Mountains, 1500 ft., 8.11.30 (No. 198).

These four specimens are, unfortunately, in such poor con-
dition that it is difficult to decide to which subspecies they should
be referred. It is clear, however, that they are distinct from the
African subspecies boopis (Trimen), and from the isolated subspecies
( cheesmani , Riley) hitherto only met with in the oasis of Hofuf.
They appear to agree best with subspecies here (Lang), which
flies throughout Mesopotamia, and to which also specimens
from Aden are doubtfully to be attributed.

P. orithya has a range extending from West Africa to Australia;
the affinities of the South Arabian specimens appear to be in

[ 351 ]

APPENDIX II

the direction of the race occurring in the Mediterranean sub-
region rather than with either the African or the Oriental race.

Charaxes varanes bertrami (Riley), ( Entorn ., 1931, 64, 279).

Wadi Arbot (’In), 500 ft., 14. 11.30, 3 <3 (Nos. 319, 320,
321); 15. 1 1.30, 1 cJ (No. 337).

Gurgaz, North-east Salalah, 400 ft., 11.1.30, 1 0.

This handsome subspecies of Ch. varanes can be distinguished
at once from all others in that the fore-wing is entirely fulvous;
there being no trace of the white basal patch common to them.
On the hind-wing also the white basal patch is very much reduced
in size and does not extend outside the cell, except towards the
inner margin and (less prominently) the costa. The pale fulvous
spots forming the marginal and submarginal rows (especially
the latter) on the fore-wing are noticeably paler and therefore
more conspicuous than in other subspecies, and the margins
of the wings are more strongly dentate.

The upper side in this interesting new race, except for the
white hind-wing patch, bears a striking resemblance to that of
the Socotran Ch. baljouri (Butler); the under surfaces are, of course,
very different. The two species are clearly closely related.

Ch. varanes occurs throughout Africa south of the Sahara, but
has not been recorded hitherto from any part of Arabia.

There is so little left of the single female obtained by Mr.
Bertram Thomas (on his earlier expedition) that I hesitate to
describe it; it does not appear to differ in markings at all, how-
ever, from the male.

Charaxes hansali arabica (Riley (/.c.)).

6 6 3 Hamirar Road, 1500 ft., 13. 11.30 (Nos. 290,
292, 294); Fuzul, 1350 ft., 1 5. 1 1.30 (No. 340);
Sahalnaut, 350 ft., 4. 11.30 (No. 141); Sa’arin, 1400 ft.,
5.1 1.30 (No. 170); ’Ain, Qara Mountains, 1500 ft.,
9 - II - 3° (No. 211); Khiyunt, 1750 ft., 11. 11.30 (No.
231); Gurthurnut, 2950 ft., 1 1.2.30.

<3 ?• Rather smaller than typical hansali , darker and with
narrow pale bands. On the upper side the basal thirds of both

[ 35 2 ]

BUTTERFLIES

fore- and hind-wing are not grey-brown but black like the remain-
ing ground-colour, and there is no pale spot at the apex of the
cell of the fore-wing. On both wings the yellow band is little
more than half as wide as in typical hansali , and on the fore-wing
it tends very noticeably to become macular. On the underside
the white-ringed dark markings of the proximal areas are smaller,
arid, instead of being dark olive-green or greyish, they are
definitely black; also, the wide, dark marginal border on the
hind-wing is wholly deep olivaceous (except for the usual markings)
with strong purplish reflections, and devoid of the chocolate-brown
inner border which occurs in typical hansali , and also in the
subspecies baringana (Roths.).

With the exception of the types these specimens are all in very
poor condition.

Ch. hansali (Felder), is a species of very limited range, being so
far known only from Abyssinia, Somaliland, South Sudan and
the northern parts of Kenya Colony. This, and the preceding
species, are the first Charaxes to be recorded from Arabia.

Pieridae

Teracolus Calais Calais (Cram.).

1 $ (No. 58), ’Ain al Rizat, 250 ft., 31.10.30.

This solitary female is very much damaged. It is, however,
quite definitely referable to the African subspecies and not to
T. Calais carnifer (Butler), which inhabits the coastal districts
around the Persian Gulf and extends eastwards to Sind. Typical
Calais is common at Aden, along the shores of the southern
Red Sea and in many parts of Africa.

Teracolus danae eupompe (Klug).

3 d Fuzul, 120 ft., 1 8.x 1.30 (380, 386), 19. 11. 30 (402).

2 d Wadi Nihaz, 250 ft., 1 8.1 1.30 (364, 365).

1 d Salalah, sea level, 25.1 1.30 (416).

1 $ ’Ain al Rizat, 250 ft., 1. 11.30 (109).

In the preliminary account of these specimens ( Geog . Journ .,
1931, 78, 232), written before they had been set up, it was

z [ 353 3

APPENDIX II

indicated that they showed a close approach to Indian danae.
This is not confirmed upon closer examination. The shape and
relative size of the red apical patch on the fore-wing appear to
afford the best guides as to racial affinities, which lie in the case
of these rather ragged specimens in the direction of ssp. eupompe
of Western Arabia and the Red Sea region.

The species occurs throughout Africa (south of the Sahara)
and eastwards through Western India to Ceylon.

Teracolus evarne (Klug).

i d Milwah al ’Aud, 220 ft., 30.10.30 (34).
id 2 ? ’Ain al Rizat, 250 ft., 31.10.30, 1. 11.30 (?) (48,
49, 108).

16 d 6 ? Fuzul and Wadi Nihaz, iyo-250 ft., 18-19.1 1.30
(3 61 , 362, 366, 371-9, 381-5, 3 8 7 , 400-1, 403-4).

These specimens are all distinctly small and pale. Except in
size they agree best with the form described by Butler as philiipsi ,
being much less heavily marked than typical evarne , but not so
nearly immaculate as form citreus (Butler).

The species occurs only in North-east Africa, being common
in Kenya Colony, Abyssinia, Sudan and Somaliland, but hitherto
it has been recorded only once from Arabia, namely by Rebel,
whose specimens were captured at Ras Fartak in March. It is
apparently absent from the Aden district, but has been taken in
some numbers by Major Philby at Jidda in December.

Herpaenia e rip hi a (Godt.), form trilogenia (Klug).

1 ?, Wadi Nihaz, Qara Mountains, 250 ft., 18. 11. 30
(No. 360).

Klug’s typical specimens of tritogenia were collected at Ambu-
kohl on the Nile. The species has not hitherto been recorded
from Arabia, where, however, it has quite recently been met with
also by Squadron-Leader E. B. C. Betts at Dhala and As Sauda
to the north of Aden, and apparently in exactly the same form
as that found by Mr. Bertram Thomas in the Qara Mountains.
It occurs commonly throughout Africa except in the tropical
rain-forest areas.

E 354 ]

BUTTERFLIES

Leuceronia buqueti arabica (Hopf.).

i $ Wadi Arbot, ^oo ft., 14. 1 1. 30 (No. 322).

1 Fuzul, 1350 ft., 15. 1 1. 30 (No. 335).

1 $ Wadi Nihaz, 200 ft., 18. 1 1. 30 (No. 363).

L. buqueti occurs throughout Africa south of the Sahara,
except the rain-forest areas. In Arabia it has been recorded from
the Aden district, and from Gaul esch Schech on the route from
Ba-el Hauf to ’Azzan in the Hadhramaut.

Lycaenidae

Tarucus theophrastus (F.).

3 d 2 Milwah al ’Aud, 220 ft., 30.10.30 (No. 32); ’Ain
al Rizat, 220 ft., 31.10.30 (Nos. 53, 54); Khiyunt,
1750 ft., 1 1. 1 1.30 (No. 2^8); Fuzul, 120 ft., 1 8. ix. 30
(No. 370).

This is an essentially Mediterranean species which extends,
however, to Abyssinia, Somaliland and Aden, and also India.
Identification is based on an examination of the genitalia of the
three males.

Azanus jesous (Guer.).

3^2? ’Ain al Rizat, 250 ft., 31. 10. 30-1. 1 1.30 (Nos. 51,
56, 60, 6 1, 107).

Quite typical. The species ranges throughout Africa and a
great part of Southern Asia; it also occurs in parts of the Medi-
terranean region, e.g. Syria, and is common at Aden.

Apharitis myrmecophila (Dumont).

1 $>: Shenna, 1000 ft., 8.1.31 (No. 458).

This is the only butterfly taken actually in the Rub’ al Khali.
It belongs to an essentially deserticolous genus, and the species
it represents has so far been recorded only from barren sand
districts in Tunisia and Transjordania. Dumont met with it
first in 1919 in the former district, where he found the larva
feeding at night on Caligonum comosum (L’Herit.), and resting by

[ 355 ]

APPENDIX II

day in the galleries about the roots formed by the ants Catoglyphia
bicolor (L.), and Cremastogaster auberti (Sm.), which appear to tend
them most carefully. A species of Cremastogaster was obtained
by Mr. Bertram Thomas in the Rub’ al Khali at Bahat-al-Jamal
on 15th January.

Myrina silenus (F.).

7 (J 2 $: Milwah al ’Aud, 220 ft., 30.10.30 (No. 32); ’Ain
alRizat, 250 ft., 31.10.30 (No. 50, 52, 55, 59); 1. 11.30
(No. 105); ’Ain (Qara Mountains), 1500 ft., 8.11.30
(No. 199); Al ’Ain, 1500 ft., 10. 11.30 (No. 225);
Khiyunt, 1750 ft., 1 3.1 1.30 (No. 2 56).

This species is distributed practically throughout Africa south
of the Sahara, in both dry and wet zones. It is not known from
Aden, but there seems very little doubt that the reported occur-
rence (by Rebel) of Myrina ficedula (Trimen), a very closely related
species, at Ras Fartak on the South Arabian coast, is really based
upon this species. Rebel draws attention to the restricted form
of the blue area of the upper side of the hind-wing in the female,
a feature which, in fact, provides the easiest means by which to
distinguish M. silenus from M. ficedula in that sex. The wings of
the only females obtained by Mr. Bertram Thomas are un-
fortunately almost entirely denuded of scales.

Hesperiidae

Sarangesa eliminata (Holl.).

1 <J: Khiyunt, 1750 ft., 13. 11.30 (No. 271).

This species occurs throughout the drier parts of Africa south
of the Sahara. In Arabia it is known from Aden, Ras Fartak
and a few other parts of the southern coastal region. Arabian
specimens (var. deserticola (Rebel)) are not distinguishable from
typical eliminata (Holl.).

H. MOTHS. By W. H. T. Tams.

The moths, which are not so numerous as the butterflies,
include:

[ 356 ]

MOTHS AND COLEOPTERA

Eufroctis sp.

Bryophilopsis tarachoides (Mab.).

Arcyophora longivalvis (Guen.).

Achaea catella (Guen.).

Pandesma anysa (Guen.).

Anumeta cestis (Menet.).

Anumeta hilgerti (Rothsch.).

Somatina virgin alls (Prout).

Cossus cheesmani (Tams).

Bombycopsis hyatti (Tams).

Zygaena simonyi (Rebel).

Qmmatopteryx ocellea (Haw.).

Bradina admixtalis (Walker).

Like the butterflies, the Moths are more closely allied to the
African than to the Oriental fauna.

/. COLEOPTERA (Beetles). By K. G. Blair, b.sc.

The beetles collected by Mr. Bertram Thomas amounted to
fifty-three specimens distributed among twenty-five species, as
under. Of these rather more than half are to be assigned to the
dominant family in a desert fauna, the Tenebrionidae. These are
generally bulky insects of a uniform black colour, and though
some of them bury themselves in the sand by day or hide away
under stones and clods of earth, yet many run actively in the
hottest sunshine . 1 In a few cases the black body-colour is con-
cealed, sometimes by a white exudation that covers the whole
surface, sometimes, as in the Leucolaephus of this collection, by
a dense covering of closely lying white hairs. In a few instances
these desert-dwelling beetles are of a reddish - yellow colour
approximating to that of the sand on which they dwell, but these
are nocturnal in habit and very difficult to detect, looking like
shadows moving over the sand.

The collection as a whole is eminently characteristic of the
palaearctic deserts, some of the species ranging right across
North Africa to Northern India and Central Asia, but their

1 Buxton, P. A., Animal Life in Deserts , 1929.

[ 357 ]

appendix II

affinities are with the African element rather than with the
Asiatic. A large proportion are confined to the region including
Egypt, Arabia, South Persia and Baluchistan, others form the
eastern fringe of a population extending across North Africa.
One of the new species, Pterolasia multicostata , appears to belong
to a genus wholly West African without known intermediate
links. The Longicorn, Batocera rubus , on the other hand, appears
to be a western colonist from an Indian source.

In the following list the native name of the insect is given
immediately after the scientific name. References to literature
have been omitted as they will be found in the respective parts
of Junk’s Coleopterorum Catalogue, the new species are described
in the Entomologist's Monthly Magazine for December 1931.

Family Tenebrionidae. Desert Beetles.

1. Erodius ( Dirosis ) octocostatus (Peyerimh). (Ga’aid al Banat)

Rub’ al Khali; No. 461; Gusman, 900 ft., 1 2.1. 31 (1 ex.)
n. Described from Sinai, this handsome species was not
represented in the British Museum.

2. E. (D.) Reichei (All). (Ga’aid al Banat) Rub’ al Khali; (Nos.

457,464). Shena, 1000 ft. 5.1. 31. (2 ex.)

3. Tentyria thomasi , sp. nov.

Rub’ al Khali; Nos. 438, 439, Ramlat Shu'ait, 1000 ft.,

23.12.1930, Bu Ragaiba; Shena, 1000 ft., 5.1. 1930;
Umm al Gharaiba; No. 487, Muneffar Sanam, 650 ft.,
1 8.x. 1 931; Umm Raghaiba, No. 499, Auda, 400 ft.,
24. 1. 1 93 1. Bu Raghaiba (5 ex.).

4. Oxycara subcostata (Guer.). (Handhot, Dhiyar.)

5. Adesmia cancellata (Klug). (Handhot.)

Qara Mountains; No. 69, ’Ain al Rizat, 250 ft.,

3 1. 1 0.1930. (3 ex.); No. 120, 2.1 1. 1 930 (1 ex.) Tingifer.

6. Adesmia ( Oteroscelis ) khaliensis , sp. nov. (Yahma.)

Rub’ al Khali; Nos. 434-437, Ramlat Shu‘ait, 1000 ft.,

2 3 - I2 - I 93 °-

7. Leucolaephus arabicus , sp. n. (Ga’aid al Banat.)

Rub’ al Khali; Nos. 520, 521, Jaub Safiya, 200 ft.
31. 1. 31 (2 ex.)

358

COLEOPTERA

The genus Leucolaephus has hitherto been known only
from North Africa, two species occurring in Algeria,
two in Tripoli and one in Abyssinia. The extension of its
range to South Arabia is of considerable interest, par-
ticularly as the remaining genera of the subfamily to
which it belongs, the Platyopinae, are all Asiatic in dis-
tribution, ranging from Asia Minor, through Turkestan
to Siberia, or, as a more southerly branch, by Mesopo-
tamia to Persia.

8. Prionotheca coronata (Oliv.) (Yahma, Fasaiya.)

9. Ocnera philistina (Reiche) (Hatata.)

Rub’ al Khali; No. 534, Qatar Steppe, 130 ft., 4. 2. 1931.
Known from Egypt and Syria, Arabia (Yemen and
Hadhramaut) to Persia and Karachi.

10. Pimelia arabica (Klug) var. thomasi nov. (Fasaiya.)

Rub ’al Khali; No. 461, Shena, 100 ft., 5. 1. 1931.

This example differs from the typical form from
Yemen and Hadhramaut in having the tubercles of the
costae long and sharp, and the intervals between the costae
more hollowed, with few and small granules. An example
collected by Mr. Thomas on a former journey at Mug
ug tayg, 18.1.1930, forms an intermediate stage between
this and the type.

1 1 . Pimelia hirtella (Senac) (Hatata.)

No. 5’35', Qatar hinterland, 130 ft., 4.2. 1931 (1 ex.).
Recorded from Egypt, Syria and Arabia.

12. Pterolasia multicostata , sp. n. (Handhot.)

No. 87, Milwah al ’Aud, 220 ft., 1.11.1930 (1 ex.).

No. 1 1 9, ’Ain al Rizat, 250 ft., 2.1 1. 1930 (1 ex.).

13. Slaps Wiedemanni (Sol.) (Fasaiya.)

No. 51 1, Jaub Kharit, 350 ft., 29.1. 1931 (1 ex.).

Occurs in Egypt, South Arabia, Sinai and South Palestine.

Family Buprestidae. Metallic Beetles.

14. Steraspis arabica (Waterh.) (Kidamair.)

No. 420, Qara Mountains, Wadi Hauf, 1150 ft.,
15. 12.1930, 1 ex.

[ 359 3

APPENDIX II

The type was from Muscat, and the species had been
previously found by Mr. Thomas at Ba Rizaz, 4.2.1930,
and Hailat as Shisur, 1 9.1. 19 30. It is closely allied to
the African S. speciosa (Klug).

1 5. Capnodis excisa (Menet.), var. aericolor nov. (Sha’ar.)

16. Lampetis mimosae (Klug) (Sha’ar).

17. Lampetis catenulata (Klug) (Tinkifa, Feuzuz.)

Family Cerambycidae. Long-horned Beetles.

1 8 . Batocera rubus (L.) (Zayror.)

No. 193, Qara Mountains, ’Ain, 1500 ft., 8.11.1930;
Nos. 313, 314. Fuzul, 1350 ft., 14.11.1930.

Family Chrysomelidae ( Galerucinae ). Plant Beetles.

19. Aulacophora ( Rhaphidopalpa ) foveicollis (Luc.) (Idhi Bir.)

Family Curculionidae. Weevils.

20. Ammocleonus hieroglyphicus (Ol.) (Tuwaysha.)

Family Scarabaeidae (determined by G. J. Arrow.)

Coprinae. Dung Beetles.

21. Scarabaeus sacer (L.) (Bhaban.)

22. Heliocopris gigas (L.) (Ga’ayla, Sa’al.)

23. Onitis alexis (Klug).

Melolonthinae. Cockchafers.

24. Phalangonyx arabicus (Arrow), n. sp.

Rub’ al Khali, Jaub Sufaiya, 200 ft., 31.1.31.

Not known from elsewhere than Arabia; an allied
species has been found at Baghdad.

Cetoniinae. Rose Beetles.

2 5. Pachnoda spreta (Bl.).

Qara Mountains, ’Ain al Rizat, 250 ft., 2.1 1.1930.

Known only from Arabia. The species was not pre-
viously represented in the British Museum Collection.

[ 3 6 °]

BEES AND WASPS

J. BEES, WASPS, etc. The bees have been identified by
R. B. Benson, m.a., the wasps by R. E. Turner, and
the ants by H. Donisthorpe. The report on this Order
has been compiled by Hugh Scott, sc.d.

Fourteen species of Hymenoptera were collected, and it has
been possible to name ten (the remaining four can at present only
be referred to their genera). The most noticeable fact is that
their affinities are as much with Africa as with the Orient, or
even more so. Four species are common to the northern part of
Africa and Southern or South-western Asia; one species, a
common wasp ( Polistes hebraeus ), is a widely spread Oriental
form not occurring in Africa; and one species has previously
been taken only in Southern Arabia. Apart from these, no
Asiatic element is apparent. The remaining named species
comprise one that occurs in the Mediterranean Region and all
over Africa; one that is widely spread in the northern and central
parts of that continent; and two that are widely distributed in
tropical Africa. The case of one of these last is very remarkable,
namely the ant Messor barbarus sub-species galla\ the species is
widely distributed in Southern Europe, Africa, and parts of
Asia as well, but the sub-species galla has hitherto been known
only from Africa (where it occurs in Abyssinia, East Africa,
Somaliland, the Sudan and Senegambia), and the addition
of the Qara Mountains to its known range is of considerable
interest.

Bees: Xylocopa aestuans (L.). Qara Mountains: Fuzah, 120 feet,
19th November; Khiyut, 1750 feet, I2th-I3th November;
’Ain al Rizat, 250 feet, 31st October; Milwah al Aud, 220
feet, 30th October. Dhufar: Salala, sea level, 25th November.
Northern Africa, Sudan, etc., West and South Asia.

Xylocopa jenestrata (F.). Qara Mountains : Khiyut, 1 750 feet, 1 3th
November; Fuzah, 1330 feet, 15th November; ’Ain al Rizat,
250 feet, 1st November. Northern Africa, Southern Arabia,
India, etc.

Anthophora sp., not in the British Museum Collection. Rub’ al
Khali: Shanna, rooo feet, 3th January.

[ 3 61 1

APPENDIX II

Wasps: Polistes hebraeus (F.). Dhufar: Salala, sea level, 25th
November. Widely distributed in the Oriental Region and
Pacific.

Cyphononyx bretoni (Guer.). Qara Mountains : ’Ain Qara, 1 500
feet, 8th November. North and Central Africa, including
Mediterranean and Cape Verde Islands.

Hemipepsis heros (Guer.). Qara Mountains: Fuzah, 1350 feet,
14th November. Tropical Africa.

Trogaspidea sp., not in the British Museum, possibly new. Qara
Mountains: ’Ain al Rizat, 250 feet, 30th October and 2nd
November.

Solitary fossorial Wasps : Sceliphron spirifex (L.). Qara Mountains :
Fuzah, 1350 feet, I4th-i5th November; ’Ain Qara, 1500 feet,
9th and 1 6th November. Mediterranean and Ethiopian
Regions.

Tachysphex aemulus (Kohl), var. Qara Mountains : ’Ain al Rizat,
250 feet, 2nd November. Southern Arabia (’Abd el Kuri and
Ras Fartak, 1899, Expedition of the Vienna Academy of
Sciences).

Sphexheydenii (Dahlb.). Qara Mountains: Milwah al ’Aud, 220
feet, 30th October. Mediterranean and West Asia.

Bembex dahlbomi (Handl.), var. Rub’ al Khali: Banaiyan, 300 feet,
28th January. North Africa and South-west Asia.

Ants: Messor barbarus (L.), sub-species galla (Em.). Qara Moun-
tains: Khiyut, 1 75 ° feet, nth November. Three soldiers.
Abyssinia, Somaliland, Sudan, East Africa and Senegambia.

Camponotus {T anaemyrmex) compressus (L.), sub-species thoraci-
cus (L.). Qara Mountains: Milwah al ’Aud, 220 feet, 30th
October. One soldier. Deserts and oases of Algeria and Tunisia.

Crematogaster ( Sphaerocrema ) sp. (indeterminable from female sex
alone). Rub’ al Khali: Bahat al Jamal, 500 feet, 15th January.
Two queens, one winged, with the venation of the fore-wings
abnormal, the other dealated.

[ 3 62 ]

TWO-WINGED FLIES AND MOLLUSCA

K. TWO-WINGED FLIES. By F. W. Edwards, m.a., sc.d.,
and Miss D. Aubertin, m.sc.

The Diptera include very few species, but among them is the
mosquito Anopheles mauritianus , taken in Jurbaib Qara littoral,
of which there is no previous Arabian record, although the
species occurs in Egypt and South Palestine, and also throughout
tropical Africa. The Bee-flies ( Boinbyliidae ) include Bombylius
analis , a common African species, also found in Palestine, and a
species of Exoprosopa new to the Museum. Other flies of Ethio-
pian affinities are a species of Promachus (a robber-fly), Eristalis
taeniops (a hover-fly), three species of blow-fly, and Hippobosca
maculata , an ectoparasite of the camel.

L. SHELLS. By G. C. Robson, m.a.

The Mollusca obtained by Mr. Thomas at Farhud are repre-
sented by thirty-five specimens and thirteen species, all of which
are marine. Forms like the Potamides and Cardium are probably
euryhaline, Potamides being usually considered a brackish water
or estuarine genus.

Retusa turrigera (Melville).

Murex ( Chicoreus ) anguliferus (Lamarck).

Drupa margariticola (Broderip).

Potamides cingulatus (Gmelin).

*Pirenella conica (Blainville).

Cerithium moniliferum (Kiener).

* ,, scabridum (Philippi).

Glycimeris pectunculus (L.), var.

Cardium {Trachy cardium) rubicundum (Reeve).

Asaphis deflorata (L.)

Psammotaea elongata (Lamarck).

Two Lamellibranchs, perhaps a Paphia and a Chama , indeter-
minable.

All the above species, which were identified by Mr. J. R. le B.
Tomlin, are living in the Indian Ocean at the present day, the

[ 363 ]

APPENDIX II

two marked * extending also into the Mediterranean. The speci-
mens of G. pectunculus differ somewhat in shape from any recent
ones we have, but it is a variable species.

M. FOSSILS. By L. R. Cox, m.a.

The fossils collected by Mr. Bertram Thomas in his traverse
of the Rub’ al Khali, like those obtained on his previous expedition
(see G. J., 1931, 77, p. 31), are all from a white limestone of
Middle Eocene age. They come partly from the southern part
of the Rub’ al Khali interior and partly from the low-lying plain
beyond Misaimir, in the hinterland of Doha, on the Persian
Gulf. The Eocene limestone thus seems to be the most wide-
spread sedimentary formation in this part of Arabia. The follow-
ing species are represented; all those identified specifically are
forms discussed in a recent paper by myself on mollusca from the
Eocene of India {Trans. R. Soc. Edinb ., vol. lvii, pt. x, No. 2,
I93i)-

From the Rub’ al Khali Interior: Ostrea brongniarti (Bronn), thick
depressed left valve (near Ramlat Ubaila); Lucina pharaonis ,
(Bellardi), two internal casts (Kharaimat Fasad); Hippochrenes ,
cf. amplus (Solander), internal cast (Kharaimat Fasad).

From the Plain beyond Misaimir, Doha hinterland : Ampullospira ,
cf. oweni (d’Archiac and Haime), Gisortia sp., Campanile sp.,
all internal casts.

The above determinations confirm a preliminary report on
the age of the fossils made by Dr. J. A. Douglas, palaeontological
adviser to the Anglo-Persian Oil Co., Ltd.

From the earlier collection mentioned above also:

Gastropoda: Campanile sp. (Wadi Dhuhair); * Natica cf. longa
(Bellardi) (Wadi Dhahair, Bin Ju’ai and Sa’aten); Gisortia murchi-
soni (d’Archiac and Haime), (Wadi Dhuhair).

Lamellibranchia: Lucina pharaonis (Bellardi) (Hanfit); Lucina
nokbaensis (Oppenheim) (Adhabugh); Lucina cf. quadrata (Ley-
merie) (Wadi Furum); Cardium sp. (Bin Ju’ai).

[ 3 6 4 ]

METEORITES, ROCKS AND MINERALS

N. METEORITES, ROCKS, AND MINERALS. By W.

Campbell Smith, m.a.

By far the most interesting specimen in Mr. Bertram Thomas’s
geological collection is a stone picked up on the sand at Buwah,
Suwahib, on 14th January 1931, which proves to be a meteorite.
The stone is of irregular form with quite sharp angles measuring
9 X 4J X 4 cm. and weighing before examination 241 grammes.
It is coated with limonite glazed by the wind, and quartz grains
are firmly cemented in little patches in the hollows on its surface.
This limonite glaze completely disguised the true nature of the
stone, and it was at first passed by as a fragment of ‘iron pan.’
Subsequent re-examination showed it to contain a high proportion
of magnetic nickeliferous iron, and when a thin section was
prepared for the microscope it showed the chondrules cemented
by a metallic matrix typical of many stony meteorites. None of
the original crust seems to be preserved, and the stone is probably
an inner portion of a much larger meteorite burst into pieces
in its passage through the atmosphere. A complete examination
of this stone is necessary before it can be fully described, but it
appears to be, in Brezinas’s classification, a black spherical
chondrite. Its density is 3-52.

The only other known meteorites from Arabia are the famous
stone preserved as a sacred relic in the Ka’aba at Mecca, of which
the history goes back beyond the seventh century, a grey
bronzite-chondrite which fell in Et Tlahi in the Hejaz in 1910,
and a meteoric iron found in 1863 at Nejd, of which two masses
weighing 13 1 and 137 lb. were found in the Wadi Bani Khaled.
These were said by the agent who sold them to have fallen
during a thunderstorm, but it seems probable that they were
not actually seen to fall.

The Hejaz meteorite was described by J. Couyat (C. R. Acad.
Sci., Paris, 1912, 155, 916). The Arabs who brought it him
said it fell on a night in the spring of 1910 and that four pieces
were found in an area about 15 km. across. One of them came
from Et Tlahi, about six days’ journey (by camel) from the
coast at Doba (? Dhaba) in Madian (? Midian). The fragments
of this meteorite in the British Museum are much lighter in

[ 365 ]

APPENDIX II

colour than the Suwahib meteorite, and chondrules described by
Couyat in the Hejaz stone are much larger.

Gypsum was found at Hadaba Dhibi at 2$o feet (No. 45,
30th January 1931) forming clear cleavage plates (selenite),
and farther north as rounded fragments of pink alabaster at
Lizba at sea level (No. 48, 1st February 1931). At this locality
it was associated with a fine-grained pink sandstone, a compact,
pale-pink limestone, and an apparently recent cemented shell-
sand. In a quite different form gypsum was found with the highly
saline sand associated with the marine, recent shells from Farhud
(see note on shells by Mr. G. C. Robson). Here the gypsum
occurs in small crystals of approximately hexagonal outline and
lenticular section, a habit which is unusual, but is found in the
gypsum deposited in some South African salt-pans at Uitenhage
in Cape Province, and at Riverton near Kimberley. The peculiar
habit is caused by a rounded development of the pyramid faces
(ill), so that the crystals are flattened parallel to the dome face
(101). Curiously enough a similar form is developed by gypsum
crystals in vesicles of some lavas at Aden.

Salt (Halite) was collected at Sabkhat al ’Amra. An analysis
made in the Anglo-Persian Oil Company’s laboratory gave 86-7
per cent, of sodium chloride and 9-25 per cent, of sodium sulphate.
It is present in appreciable quantity in two sand samples from
Buwah and Sanam (Nos. 33 and 40), and in abundance with the
gypsum in the shell-bearing sand at Farhud just mentioned.

Another mineral of some interest is aluminite, found at Turaiga
Sanam (No. 39, 20th January 1931), in the form of flakes of
irregular form resembling whitened fragments of bone.

With the fossils identified by Mr. L. R. Cox as Eocene from
Kharaimat Fasad were found red flints and hollow chalcedonic
concretions lined with quartz crystals which, when loose, rattle
about when the stone is shaken. They are almost certainly of
the same kind as the quartz geodes described by G. E. Pilgrim
(Mem. Geol. Surv. of India , 1908, vol. 34, pt. 4, p. 116) as
occurring in great abundance in a soft white marl and in the
limestones of Eocene age in the Bahrain Islands. These stones,
known locally as gilgil, were not credited by the Arabs with any

[ 366 ]

METEORITES, ROCKS AND MINERALS

special powers, except that of absorbing warm milk if immersed
in it. 1 It seems probable, however, that stones of this kind are
one of the many varieties of Aetites, or Eagle-stone, mentioned
by Pliny. The name Aetites seems to have been applied to various
hollow concretions within which some loose stone rattled about.
The lore of these eagle-stones is curious. The best kind were
supposed to be found in the nests of some species of eagle and
were believed in some way to help them to lay. For human
beings they were regarded as a powerful charm assisting the
birth of children, preserving children from harm, conferring
sobriety, increasing riches, and bringing victory and popularity.

Other concretions found by Mr. Thomas at 1000 feet, ten
miles south-west of Shanna (Nos. 13-17, 4th January 1931), are
calcareous sandstone concretions which bear a superficial resem-
blance to fossil bones. One of these is nearly 2 feet long and
like a rib bone, another, remarkably symmetrical, 1 \ feet across,
bears some resemblance in outline to the pelvic girdle of some
reptile. The concretions consist of quartz sand-grains cemented
with calcite. With the bone-like large ones were others, small
and spherical, or in odd shapes like Losspuppen or Fairy-stones.

The sand in the district from which the first Eocene fossils
came is surprisingly rich in grains of limestone. Sand-dune gravel
from ’Uruq Mitan, consisting of white and brown grains up
to 3 mm. in diameter, consists entirely of limestone pebbles.
A greenish sand noticed below the surface of red sand about
Dhahiya ’Uruq consists mainly of minute grains of limestone,
along with many other minerals, among which green glauconite
is common. About Shanna were also found two pebbles of
white quartz, one about 3 cm. in diameter. A similar sand
is that from Shanna at 1000 feet, and from Gusman at 900 feet
is a sample resembling the finer-grained portion of the sands of
’Uruq. Lighter in colour, but still containing abundant grains
of pink-and-white limestone, are the sands from the southern
Sanam border, Jadida, and Tarega. The larger grains in these

1 One of these concretions, 7 cm. in diameter, did not absorb cold
water, but it took up about 30 cc. when the water was gently heated up
to about 90 0 C.

[ 367 ]

APPENDIX II

sands, about I mm. in diameter, are well rounded, and the
majority are of quartz. The smaller grains, averaging o - i mm.
in diameter, are sub-angular. No detailed analyses of the heavy
minerals in these sands have yet been made.

Farther north in Sanam and Jaub the composition seems
much the same, with the addition of grains of black rhyolite and
other rocks similar to those which occur in the gravel plain in
the Jaub area, north of Banaiyan.

The pebbles collected in Northern Sanam consist of buff-
coloured limestones with small dendritic markings, and showing
etching and wind polish; quartz, pale yellows to the colour of
carnelian; olive-green epidosite; black and very dark red rhyolite,
somewhat vesicular; brick-red quartz-porphyry; and a rough
flattened nodule of chalcedony.

These are similar to the pebbles collected by Major R. E.
Cheesman from the gravel plain which he found between the
limestone areas of Flofuf and Jabrin. The assemblage of pebbles
is similar and some of the kinds are identical, for example, the
buff-coloured limestone, the black rhyolite, and the epidosite,
and yellow quartz. In that area the immediate source of the
pebbles appeared to be a bed of conglomerate which lies below
the gravel plain in the Jafura desert and outcrops in the bed of
the Wadi Sahba. It is possible that the steep outcrops in sand
noticed by Mr. Bertram Thomas at Banaiyan may be due to a
similar formation.

O. ANALYSES OF WATER, SAND, AND SALT. By
Mr. B. K. N. Wyllie, Anglo-Persian Oil Co. Ltd.

The salinity of all the samples is many times (yo to ioo times)
greater than that of normal river or lake waters. In every case
the acid radicles determined exceed the bases; and some 2-4
gms./ litre of sodium are presumably present — that is to say, the
waters contain relatively large proportions of alkali sulphate
and chloride, with subordinate amounts of alkaline earths (calcium
and magnesium). One might perhaps guess that gypsum or gyp-
seous strata underlie a good part of Mr. Thomas’s route. To
attempt a complete analysis of any of the water samples would

[ 368 ]

ANALYSES OF WATER, SAND AND SALT

have been impossible, because of the extremely small quantities
available. The largest sample, No. 22, contained 250 ccs., a
quantity much too small for complete analysis.

Of the sand samples, two contained an appreciable quantity
of sodium chloride, two a heavy trace, three a trace, and two none.

The salt sample consisted of sodium chloride, 86-7 per cent.,
sodium sulphate, 9- 2 5 per cent., water, 4-2 per cent.

The values obtained are detailed below:

•*» "e

$

Total solids
dried at

Ft

0

S

09

5

1 io° C.
Calcium

6-o

67

io-8

7‘9

(Ca)

Magnesium

0-48

07

072

0-36

(Mg)

Sulphate

0-36

0-08

0-24

Less

than

o-oi

(SOJ

Chloride

2-84

1-06

3-2

i-6

(cy

0-24

2-6

2-8

i -9

All quantities

are expressed in

water alkaline to phenolphthalein.

Earlier

Journey.

5

•

$

£

|

ft

£

£

8-2

5-0

I O'O

—

—

0-56

0-25

o- 61

3‘5

i -9

0-13

0-19

0-32

2-9

1-05

2-2

i-6 2-24

4-2

1-22

not

2-4

estimated

4-0

2-5

gms./ litre. In no case was the

APPENDIX III

REGIONAL SANDS AND WATER-HOLES OF THE RUB’ AL KHALI

Average

Length

and

Sand Region and
Water-holes.

I. EASTERN SAND
REGIONS

depth in
fathoms.

Location.

breadth
in days'
marches.

General

direction.

A1 Hamra

Zuraitan, Zaharani,
Abu Ghar, Halib

4-5

Middle of eastern edge
of sands; long. 55°;
lat. 2 3 0

3 X 3

Ghasaiwara

Sweet water; fall of
W. As wad

1

2

South of Al Hamra;
long. 55 0 ; lat. 22 0

2X X

N.-S.

Ghafa

One brackish water-
hole, Khor Naqa

South of Ghasaiwara;
long. 55°: lat. 21°

3 X 2

N.-S.

Ghanim

Much water in West
Khasfa, Ablutan, Bug-
hara, Lahus Mansa,
Abu Dhur, Dhirib,
Tuwaifal

Varying

between

p 3 > b ut

average 1

South-eastern corner of
sands ; long. 54 0 : lat.20 0

4X2

N.E.-

S.W.

Batin

Brackish Khiran many
holes

1-2

Due south of Liwa and
west of Al Hamra;
long. 54 0 : lat. 23 0

4 X 1

E.-W.

‘Uruq A1 Marakiha
‘Uruq Ash Shaiba
‘Uruq Bin Tamaisha
‘Uruq al Mijora

None

Due south of Batin
heavy dune country
running north and
south dividing habit-
able sands of centre

N.-S.

from those of eastern
borderlands; long.54 0 :
lat. 23°-20°

Sabkhat Mijora

Umm Sahud 5 West of Ghanim; long. 2X1 E. — W.

54 0 : lat. 20°

[ 370 3

REGIONAL SANDS AND WATER-HOLES

Average

Sand Region and depth in
IV ater-holes. fathoms.

II. CENTRAL SAND
REGIONS

Length

and

Location. breadth General

in days' direction,
marches.

Qidan

Abu Qutub, A 1 Khub-
ba (sweet), Garaini,
Khor Tuwairish,Khor
Bin Ham, Qara, Bil
Hanna, Umm al ‘Am-
ad, Abu Ruwawil

4-5-6

South-west of Qidan;
long. 53°: lat. 22°

5 X 3

N.E. -
S.W.

Al Hamra

No sweet water

Hibak

2-3

South of Qidan; long.

53°: lat. 2i° 30'

South of Hamra; long.

4x2

N.N.E.-

S.S.W.

Plentiful but brackish
- Haraim, Zaghain,
Gardhum,KhorJarub,
Khor Saif, Manthur,
Khor Shiban, Khor
Saba‘in, Bu Istam,
Khor Tar'uza, Khor
Bin Tamaisha

53°: lat. 2o°-2i°

5x2

N.N.E.-

S.S.W.

Suwahib

Generally

West of Hibak; long.

10x6

N.E. -

Plentiful but generally
extremely brackish (in
parts Khiran, undrink-
able by man or camel)

f 1

5l°-52°: lat. 1 9 0 30'-
21°

S.W.

(i) Hadh Buwah

Bahat Faris(s) Bahat
Salama, Bahat Jumal,
Bahat Najran
(n) Hadh Libda

Hadh Ajman

i

long. 5 r°: lat. 20°

3 X 1

E.-W.

Khiran

(m) UmmMalissa (Wes-
tern)

2

long. 52 0 : lat. 20 0

2X 2

-

Sabkhat ‘Ali Mahsin
Umm Malissa (Eastern)

long. 51 0 : lat. 20 0 30'

2X I

E.-W.

Fida, Sabkhat Njrah

long. 5 2 0 : lat. 2o°-2i'

[ 371 ]

3 X 1

N.-S.

APPENDIX III

Sand Region and

Average
depth in

Location.

Length

and

breadth

General

Water-holes.

fathoms.

in daps’

direction.

(iv) Karsu'a

Khiran

2-3

long. 52 0 : lat. 20° 30'

marches.

i|X I

E.-W.

(v) Wasa‘

Khiran

2*3

long. 52 0 : lat. 21 0

tlx ij

_

Hadh Mazariq

Hadh Nuwasif

Hadh Munajjar

Minjorat Mahayub,

5

West of Karsu’a and

3 X 2

N.-S.

Minjorat Hadi

Hadh Abu Suraifa

Khiran (Abu Suraifa)

1-2

Wasa‘; long. 5 1°: lat.
21°

West of Hamra; long.

4-5X2

N.-S.

Al Maharadh

52 0 : lat. 21°

West of Qidan; long.

5Xi

N.-S.

Hadh Mahiqiq

2-3

52 0 : lat. 22 0

West of Maharadh;

4X 1

N.-S.

Mijhut, Habaran,

Bani Qadhai, Bu Ma-
haqiq, Abu Faris

Sanam

IC-I 2

long. 51 0 30': lat. 22°

long. 5 1°: lat. 2i°-23°

6-7X4

N.-S.

Al ’Ubaila, Umm al

Hadid, Umm Qurai-
yan, Safif, Turaiga,
Farajja, Ibrahima,
Fijafil, Umm al 'Am-
ad, Asaila, ‘Auda, Du-
wairis, Umm Raqa,
Khalak, Al Hirra,
Waiya, Banaiyan.
(Western water-holes
of exceptional depth are
calledTuwal),Bir Fad-
hil is said to be in Mur-
bakh al Faris to West.

II. SOUTHERN

SAND REGIONS
Ramlat Mugshin
Ramlat al ‘Aradh
Umm Dharta

The edging sands of 1-2 E. — W.
south taking names days’
from Wadis of same depth

[ 372 ]

REGIONAL SANDS AND WATER-HOLES

Average

Length

and

Sand Region and

depth in

Location.

breadth

Water-holes.

Fasad

Mitan

Shu ‘ait

Dune-country and

well-less

fathoms.

name that fall into
them (except Umm
Dharta, where sands
emit wheezing noise
when walked upon);
between long. 5 2°- 5 5°:
lat. 1 8° iso'-itf 30'

in days'
marches.

‘Uruq Ar Raqa'at

Raqa'a Ash Shamai-
liya, Raq‘a al Janubiya

2-3

South of Hibak, north
of Fasad; long. 53 0 :
lat. 1 9 0

4X +

‘Uruq al Miniyur

West of Raqa‘at, north-
west of Mitan; long.
5 2°; lat. 1 9 0

2X 2

‘Uruq adh Dhahiya
KhorDhahiya, BiDhi-
yab. Bin Hamuda

North-west of Shu ‘ait;
long. 51 0 30': lat. 19 0

2X2

Kharkhir

Kharkhir

2

Edging sands south-
west of ‘Uruq Adh
Dhahiya; long. 51 0 :
lat. r8° 30'

3X3

Umm Gharib

Edging sands west of
Kharkir; long. 50°:
lat. 1 8°

2X 2

Ga'amiyat

Said to be waterless

“

West of Umm Gharib;
long. 49°-5o°: lat. 1 8°-

TO°

X

00

Dakaka

Eastern

Central southern sands

7 x 3

Bil Ashush, Sabla,

wells, 3;

just within edging

Mashruma, Bil Afen,

western.

sand - dune country;

Turaiwa (i 5), Zu-
wayra, Shanna (1 1),
Khudhifiya (6), Bir
Hadi, Al Harsha,
Wughawak, Bin War-
aiqa, Umm Dasis, Tu-
waiyal, Al Bahaisin,
Ga'ada Mifatih, Khor
Shiban, Abu Madai-
yin, Ga'aimi Sigani,
Gham Ghim

15

long. 50° 3C/-52 0 30':
lat. 18° 3o'-20°

[ 373 ]

General

direction.

N.E.-

S.W.

w.s.w.

- E.N.E

APPENDIX III

Average

Sand Region and depth in

Water-holes. fathoms.

IV. NORTHERN
SAND REGIONS

Mijan, Sabkhat Matti,

Dhafra, Liwa, Qufa,

Taff, Bainuna, Kha-
tam, Jafura

Zibda and Sha’ala 1 5

Mijan 2

Bainuna 4-6

Jiban

BirAzila, Mabak,Khor 2-2 J

al ‘Awamir, Khor al
‘Abd, Bil Ikirish, Bij-
ran, Qadah, Wutait,

Wusiya, Khuwaitima,

Umm al Jira, Dhibi,

Kharit, Minaiyif, Uq-
da, Suraiya, Al Lizba,

Haluwain (the shallow
water-holes of Eastern
Jiban are called Aqal)

Jaub

Bir Aziz, Hugsha, Al 5-11-17
Atsa, Nadgan, Umm
Dharib, Al Bahath,

Latit, Umm Maithala

V. WESTERN SAND
REGIONS (reported
to be well-less)

Jaddat al Juwaifa (not
sand) ~

Hibaki

Bani Zainan

Abu Bahr (not sand)

Length

and

Location. breadth General

in daps' direction,
marches.

As shown already on Hunter’s map.

Between Jafura and 6x 2] N. - S.

Mijan, south of Qatar
peninsula; long. 51 0
E.: lat. 23'-25°

South-west of Jafura, 5X3 E.-W.

north and west of
Sanam from Jabrin to
Banaiyan; long. 48° 30'

-5 1°: lat. 23°

South of Jaub, west of
Sanam; long. 50°: lat.
22 0 30'

E.-W.

South-west of Sanam;

3Xj

N.W. -

long. 50°: lat. 21 0 30'

S.E.

South of Hibaka; long.
50°: lat. 21°

N.-S.

South of Jabrin; long.
48° 30'; lat. 22 0

5X1

N.-S.

REGIONAL SANDS AND WATER-HOLES

Sand Region and

Average
depth in

Location.

Length

and

breadth

General

Water-holes.

fathoms.

in days'

direction.

Kursha al Ba‘ir

West of Bani Zainan;

marches.

7X5

E.-W.

Shuwaikila (north)

long. 49°: lat. 21 0
South of Kursha al

3X 1

N.N.E.-

Huwaiya

Ba’ir, north-east of
Huwaiya; long. 49 0
30': lat. 20 0
North-west of Ga’ami-

5X2

S.S.W.

N.N.E.-

Shuwaikila (South)

yat; long. 49 0 : lat. 19 0
South-west ofHuwaiya;

4X 1

s.s.w.

N.N.E -

Suman

_

long. 48°: lat. 18° 30'
South and west of Jab-
rin; long, 48° 30': lat.
22 0 30'

West of Suman; long.

s.s.w

N.-S.

Haraisan

N. - S.

As Sahama (not sand)

48°: lat. 22 0 30'

W est of Kursha al Ba‘ir;

7X 1

N.-E.

Uwairiq

long. 48°: lat. 21°

West of Sahama; long.4~5X 2I

N.-E

Raida (not sand)

47 0 30': lat. 21 0

South of Haraisan and

iox

N.-E.

north-west of Uwai-

riq; long. 47 0 30': lat.
21 °

Other sands reported to west of these —

NORTH-WEST REGION
OF SANDS

Idhawat al Faris, Ruma-
aila, Agonis

SOUTH-WEST REGION
OF SANDS

Bani Ma'aradh, ‘Uruq al
Jilida, Subaitain, Rai-
yan, Wudai'a, ‘Uruq
Abu Da‘ar, Al ‘Aradh,

‘Uruq Az Zaza.

[ 375 ]

APPENDIX III

TOPOGRAPHICAL TERMS

al huta : A gorge or belly between sand-hills or ridges — generally
with vegetation.

shagga or sarug: A gorge or belly between sand-hills or ridges —
generally with vegetation.

makhtum: A wall of sand lying transversely across a huta.
raidfa: A gentle curving slope of a sand-ridge in huta.
rakib: A flat roof of elevated sand.

rubadh (pi.) rubabldh , or rubai (pi.) rubdbil , or argdb (pi.) aragib:
Sand-banks (drift).

kharaiyim: Steppe corridors within southern fringing sands.
nukhdat: An offshoot of a wadi, emptying into sands.
hazm (pi.) huzum: Stone outcrops.
maslla: Soft, sandy wadi bed in steppe.
raga' a: Small patches of gypsum.

hissi: Depression in stony outcrop, where water will collect after
rain.

ga'aida: Large sand-dune.

gal Ida: Largest sand-dune.

taruza (Murri): Largest sand-dune.

sintn : Sand-dune with conical peak.

hsansuba: Lofty sand-dune.

hugna: Horseshoe-shaped sand-hill.

uriiq: Sand-dune ridges.

zibdra: Hard sand (good going).

ath-ath or beth-beth : Soft sand (heavy going).

gara (pi.) guwdr: (in north) Ridge or hills.

burga: (in north) Peak.

al afja: (in north) Grazing ground in the Jaubs.

raudha: (in north) Sandy patches in the stony steppe of Qatar.

sabkha: Salt plain.

asfila: The fall of the wadi where it is lost on edge of sands.

[ 376 ]

APPENDIX IV

FLORA

Mountains:

Libaniferous trees: (i) Frankincense, three varieties - Negedi
(Nejdi), sh’abi (or somali), and shazari tree of mughur. Negedi
is the famous tree of the three. It grows on the intra-montane
wadi-slopes, between 2250 feet and 2500 feet. (2) Mulukh: a
tree growing on the plains along lower wadi beds at 500 feet.
Gum exudes naturally from the branches and is of an edible
kind. (3) Tishgaut: found on the Divide (2750-3000 feet).
A low, bushy tree, in numbers from a distance resembling
vineyards of Syria. Its gum is flattened into cakes and sometimes
exported.

Vegetation in the mountains from 600 feet to 1000 feet:
Mushta, thamar, ladlaub, al khaimur, mughallf, huraum, mitan
(this provides a heavy wood which is said not to float in water
and is used for making ghatrifs), subara, and khafaut.

On the Divide (Qatan), 2750-3000 feet: Tikidauhauf, laiflt,
zurfit, rad zintiraut, tishgaut, gushar, qarhahaur, and dhubdhu-
baut.

Steppe:

In the masila of wadis or plains : Samr (acacia), Sheheri —
Saidhna, the most important camel fodder. This is the pre-
dominant intra-montane vegetation between 2000 feet and 1 200
feet: none below 1200 feet. Markh and hardhai trees, almost
equally important for fodder, become predominant at about
1200 feet, and remain so during these mid-courses of intra-
montane wadis. Dhaflrwut, hailaima, dha‘a bushes, or scrub,
are next in importance, though they do not survive rainless
periods so well as the first three. They thrive in Sih at 1500-1000
feet. Ragus, al gha(b), alithal (tamarisk, met first time at 1200
feet, where the samr acacia was left behind), gutufa (wadi hill
slopes), al ‘usfa, raka, qilqa(dh), ‘arad, jinn tree, qarada or
qaraira, dumdum, dur‘ma, hisham, gandra, baluk, aigail, fani,
‘utib, hauwai, saaban (lubdi thail), dhanuna or ma'anum, asaf

[ 377 ]

APPENDIX IV

or ghadaf (palm bushes which provide material for rope-making),
tanfit, kaithi, dhuwaila, harmel, eshriq, ilisunam, and rimram.
The last seven named have medicinal uses. Jhamam, turfa’
(generally at heads of wadis and salt plains), huguba, arad, shauk-
hir, rusris, mailuh, laibid, iskud, khurais-shabah.

In sandy soils on the verge of the Sands at 500 feet: Ghaf
(acacia), tarthuth (resembling the head of a bulrush), basul,
al ashera (the al ashkhara of Oman; first isolated example found
at 1050 feet at Hailat Shisur on edge of sands, predominant
vegetation at 500 feet, last example at Maraha), thurmid.

Sands:

Al Abala (whose fruit is khuri), zahara, barkana, gusais, hadh,
gadha, shinan, ’angud, zaraiga, thurmid, haram.

[ 378 ]

Appendix V.

Camel brands met with in CentralSouth Arabia

MURRA

ni li. L lA UJ

AWAMIR

01 o in i

AR RASHID

•

•

MANAS IR

r

AFAR

•\

SA’AR

*— ( Lj J(also clipped left ear)

MANAHIL

21 V \ \\ D

DAWASIR

•l ! loo

MAHRA

— (sssr) n

BARAHAMA

ft'

BAIT ASHSHAIKH

9

BANI HA JAR

IOO

QATAR

<

<

CAMEL BRANDS JN SOUTH ARABIA ARE FOUND ALMOST
INVARIABLY ON THE NEAR SIDE - CHEEK, NECK ,ORQUARTER

APPENDIX VI

ARAB CHANTS

‘Every neck is a hairy trombone
(Rtt-ta-ta-ta! is a hairy trombone)

And this is our marching song.’

kipling. The Jungle Book.

The full list of

‘camelty tunes of our own
to help us trollop along’

that I met with in South Arabia is given in the following
pages.

[380]

\PPBNDIX VI AUAB CHANTS (SOUTH ARABIA &UUB AL KHALl)

SHALLA (JA'NA'BA)

c=hb

rr 1 1

. ,1

/?>

■ T1

iruvniflH

vm'jm mmmmm

S^oS

ggjjggj

CJPCJ

FMPH

3=q

CAMELS OVER. 'WATER. -JA'NA'BA

TAQAUD (TROTTWg).AWA'Mm Sc YAL WAH IE A

HAMMl OK KA2EA. (WALKIN^ AWAMIK Sc YAL YAH IBA

LUTE souq &z mUKS.DRUFAK TOWM

LOAD mg UP CHANT (lLAS HID OTC AlUKKA?)

HLAgAZAXT OF KAHAA TKI'BF — HAY DANA'DO'N

KINSHA AIK. OF QAKA'MTS : (WOMEN)

■BOYS' SOTsT^ of QAB.A "MTS:

"MENSHA AIK OF QAIVA MTS: (TOMEW)

CHANT m PRAISE OF COFFEE CWUKRA)

HURRA CHANT

INDEX

Notes

No attempt has been made to include in this index detailed references to

the Appendices.

The accents have been inserted to indicate
the local pronunciation of certain words.

A

Ab (amongst negroes), 31
’Abdul ’Aziz bin Sa’ud, see Sa’ud,
bin

’Abdullah, poet, 65
Abkid, see Auqad
Abltitan, water-hole, 199
Abraham, story of, 87
Abu Akhshaba, hill, 223
Abu Dhabi, 108, 213, 270
’Abud bin ’Isa, 12
’Abu Sa’id, see Muscat, Sultan of
Abul Fida‘, 8

Abyssapolis, of Ptolemy, 1 o, 48
Abyssinians, 24, 69
Acacia, 139
Achernar, 131
’Ad, 1 61

Adhaba (Murra), 217
Adln, Shahari, 46
Adnan, 23
Adramitae, 48
Aduwiz, 1 1 8

’Afar, tribe, 48, 143, 181, 273
wadi, 88

Afaur, frankincense grove, 1 23
Aforit, language, 48
Agaba (camel), 256
Ahl Yazld, 26
Aidam, wadi, 140
2 B

’Ain, Shahari settlement, 53, 77
’Ain, al, wadi in Oman, 1 82
’Ainain, wadi, see Mugshin
’Ainarun (Shahara), 46
’Ainr, Bait, 46
Airship R. 101, xxvi
Air Zurbaig, 46
Ait Fat, 46

Aiwat al Manahll, wadi, 141
Aiwat as Sa’ar, wadi, 141
’Aiyub, Nabi, 85
’Aiyun, water-hole, 128, 142
Ai Zuftair, Shahari dialect, 46
’Aj, 85

Ajarthun, wadi, 50
Alamat an Nakhala, sandhill, 283,
293

Albu Shamis, 181, 273
Alcohol, 144
’Ali ’Afif, Shaikh, 85
Al Khati, 46
Al Sa’idi , gunboat, 1 06
’Ali, son of Sulaiman, 12
’Ali, the Kathiri, story of, 85
’Ali al Dhab’an, Badu companion,
26, 38, 54

'Ali bin ’Abdullah bin ’Abdul
Wadud, 86

’Ali Muhammad, author’s secre-

cy? 37.

’Amairi, wadi, 183

[ 385 ]

INDEX

’Amari, see ’Awamir
Amaut, frankincense grove, 123
Amphibians, 341
Amra Sabkhat, plain, 294
’Amr bin Khafaiyat, 279, 290
Analyses, 368
Andam, wadi, 183
Anderson, Dr. John, 334
Andhaur, wadi, 128, 137, 140
Animistic cults, 41
Antar, of the Bani Hillal, 208
Antelope, virtues of, and unicorns,
I 34

Anthropological Institute, Royal,3o 1
Anthropology, 301 sqq.

Ant-heaps, 1 1 7
Ants, 1 17, 147
Apes, 62

’ Aqabat al Hamra, 1 1 8
Aqal, 266
’Ara, wadi, 183
’Aradh, Al, 140
Aramaean settlements, 24
Arbot, wadi, 50, 78, 99
Architecture, 16, 38
Ardaf, triple hill, 125
Arisha, 278
Aristotle, cited, 135
Arkhaut, wadi, 140
Anna, wadi, 92
Arrian, cited, 8
Asug, frankincense grove, 123
Aswad, wadi of Oman, 183
Ata, frankincense groves, 123
’Ataiba, 269
Afina, wadi, 140
Auqad, village, 3, 1 23
’Awamir tribe, 109, 142, 182, 269,
2 73

Awwadh (the Ab), 31
’Aziz bin Khala, 219, 239

B

Babylonia, xxiv, 236
Badger, 105
Badr bin Tuwairij, 136
Bahara, community, 1 2
Baharama, tribe, 47
Bahrain, 108, 295
Bahr as Safi, 1 84
Baihan, the blacksmith, 86
Baiju Badawin, 326
Bainha, water-hole, 226
Bainuna, 262
Baiyasira, community, 1 2
Bakhit bin Nub!, negro slave and
wali, 14 sqq.

Balld, ruins, xo, 38
Baliyoz, origin of word, 69
Ba Musgaiyif, tombstones, 126
Banaiyan, 258, 274
Banat ar Raghaif, 128
Hajran, 230
Jamal, 230
Salama, 230
Bani Hajar, 217
Bani Hillal, tribe, 208
stories of 208, 277, 289
Baraiga, brother of Bu Zaid, 246,
277

‘Barlimul,’ Sea of, 276
Basrah, 8
Batin, region, 262
Bats, 77, 105, 1 18
Battuta, Ibn, 47
Bautahara, 84
Bees, 361

Beetles, 135, 237, 357
Beni Amer, 327

Bent, Mabel and Theodore, 10, 36,
+8, 1 1 6, 334
Betrothal, see Marriage

[386]

INDEX

Bil Ashush, 196
Bilhaf, tribe, 47
Bil Ziyun (Shahara), 46
Bin Akslt, 19 1

Dhurbut, legendary tribe, 143
Ham, 193, 285
Hamiida, water-hole, 175
Jaluwi of Hasa, 271
Juli, 150

Juwahir, shrine, 85
Khafaiyat, warrior
Kilut, 193
Othman, shrine, 85
Sa’ud, no, 217, 271, 297
Tannaf (Manahll), 235
Bin am, marriage right, 99
Biraimi, 270
Bir ’Ali, shrine, 85
Annegim, 92
Annekid, 92
’Arablya, shrine, 85
Borhut, 213

Bir Hadi, water-hole, 194, 226
Jaufa, water-hole, 209
Uwaiga, 92

Birds and Bird life, 146 sqq., 237,
335 sqq.

Bit Aba Ghassan, 1 29
Bohor, 143
Istait, 143

Bittner, Dr. Maximilian, 48
Black Belt, of mankind, 321
Blair, Mr. K. G., 357
Blood feuds, 83, 88, 102, 142,
271

Blood money, 83
Blood sacrifice, 41, 55
Boa, 238

Brachycephaly, 301 sqq.

Brain growth in desert conditions,
309

Bread, making of, 1 66
British Grenadier , s.s., 1
British Museum, 237
Bugs, 348

Bullard, Mr. R. W., xxii
Bu Mukhaimar, 289
Burnt offering, 55
Burton, Captain Richard, xxiv, 22,
3 GI

Bu Shamis, Al, 181, 273
Bushman of South Africa, 303
Bustard, 237
Butter, 167

Butterflies, 59, 105, 237, 349
Buwah, sands and water-hole, 226,
230, 266

Bu Zaid, stories of, 208
his generosity, 21 1
and the great sword, 2 1 3
and his sister, 219
and his three sons, 220

C

Calendar, the, 245

Caiman, Dr. W. T., xxii, 334
sqq.

Camels, marks (brands), 379
black, of the Murra, 254
breeding and rearing, 79, 200,
217, 267
calls, 295
care of, 157, 176
economic value of, 79
flesh for eating, 202, 204
homing instinct of, 257
loads, 1 1 3
milk of, 167

mounting and dismounting, 286
names according to age, 25 7

[ 387 ]

INDEX

Camels — continued.
names of herds of, 254
nomenclature, 201
pastures, 200, 266, 282
treatment of abrasions, 1 1 5
wool, uses of, 225, 268
Camera, suspicion of, 25
Campbell Smith, Mr. W., 365
Canaanitic invasion of Syria,
236

Canopus, 124, 131
Cape Colony, 303
Cassiopaeia, 62
Casting lots, 206

Cattle, wealth of, in Qara Moun-
tains, 78

treatment of disease in, 80
Caucasian types, 322
Cautery, the, 144
Caves, as dwellings, 120, 143
privately owned, 94
of Sahaur, 1 1 7
Centipedes, 105

Chanties and Chanting, see
Music
Charms, 64
Cheese, 167

Cheesman, Mr. R. E.; App. II
China, Mr. W. E., 348
Chinaman, murdered, 252
Chronometers, 177, 256
Circumcision, 71
Clitoridectomy, 71
Coleoptera, 357
Coney, 94, 105
Cox, Mr. L. R., 364
Cox, Sir P. Z., 334
Cretaceous, Upper, 124, 263
Cults, pagan and animistic, 4 1
Currency, copper, 36
Cyclamen , H.M.S., 1

D

Daham, tribe, 209
Dahaq, precipice, 48
Dakaka, 111, 1 88, 225, 271
Dalaiyan, the slave, 280
Damqut, coastal village, 140
Danakll, 319
Dancing, 33
Darbat, village, 48
Daru’ trube, 18 1, 184, 273
Dauka, wadi, 130, 140
Dawash, district, 140
Dawasir, 269

De La Mare, W., cited, xxix
Desert, Arabian, desiccation, in-
creasing, 137
Dha’af, community, 1 2
Dha’arflt, wadi, 140
Dhaghaub, wadi, 1 28
Dhahibun, wadi, 140
Dhahiya, wadi and water-hole, 1 1 1,
130, 141

Uruq-adh, 164 sqq., 181
Dhank, 270

Dharbat ’Ali (Dhufar), 8, 47
Dhlbi, sand depression, 282
Dhikur, wadi, 24
Dhim Himla, ridge, 149
Dhiraibi, water-hole, 199
Dhiyab bin Ghanim, story of, 208,
221, 277, 290
Dhufar, 49, 263
government, 11, 36
history, xxiii
in Yemen, 8
Qadhi of, 9
town, 3, 4, 1 13
Wali of, 1 1
Dhuhair, wadi, 140
Dialects, 48, 1 64, 268

[ 388 ]

INDEX

Diana Oraculum of Ptolemy, 1 16
Difin, wadi, 140
Divorce, rules of, 95, 269
Diyan (Qara), 46
Dodson, Mr. W., 334
Dogs, 79
Doha, 210, 295
Dolichocephaly, 301 sqq.

Dollman, Captain J. K., 335, 339
Domestic architecture, 16
Donkeys, 79

Dragonflies, 105, 237, 347
Dravidians, 332
Drums, 30
Du’an, Jabal, 140
Duwairis, water-hole, 256
Dye, 209

E

Eagle, nest and eggs, 237
Egypt and Egyptians, xxiii, 7 1
Electric torch, 274
Eocene, 124, 263
Eriyot, city, 47
Ethiopic, 47, 1 26

Evil Eye and spirits, 80, 94, 144, 224
Exorcism, 80, 144, 195

F

Face painting, 74
Fadhul bin Aliyowi, 1 1
Fahad, Horn of, 121
Faiyah, 46
Farajja, 243
Farhad, bluff, 293
Fasad, 162
Fat, Ait, 46

Fath-as-Salaam , dhow, 2

Fatk-Shaghuwat, 139, 140
Fennec, see Fox
Fida, water-hole, 199
Field, Mr. Henry, 305
Finkhor (Qara), 12
Fleas, 239

Flint implements, 207
Flora, list of, 377
Food customs, 59, 79
Forum, 107

Foot-tracking by Badawin, 178,
251

Fossils, 135, 160, 263, 294, 364
Foxes, 59, 94, 105, 236
F rankincense, 8, 79, 1 22 sqq.

Frogs, 105
F uhaida, 217

Funeral ceremonies, 29, 55
Fuzah, water-hole, 100

G

Ga’amiyat sands, 181, 207, 223
Gabriel, the angel, 87
Gazelle, 146

Gazelle and hare, story of, 167
Gazelle and hyena, story of, 61
Geology, 124, 262
Gerainha (camel), 185
Gerrha, 163, 295
Ghabartan, wadi, 1 25
Ghafari faction, 111, 273
Ghanlm, sands, 130, 199, 271
Ghara, wadi, 140
Ghassan, Bait, 17
Ghassanid dynasty, 1 29
Ghassanitae, 129
Ghaur Fazl, hole, 1 16
Ghaz’al, wadi, 140
Ghazot, wadi, 50

[ 389 ]

INDEX

Ghudun, wadi, 126, 130, 134, 140,
183

Ghuferan, Al (Murra), 187
Ghuzub, At, 46
Gibb, Professor H. A. R., xxii
Gizilaut, frankincense grove, 1 23
Glaser, 22

Goodenough, Admiral Sir W., xxi
Grasshoppers, 344
Graves, 126 sqq.

Greeks, 24

Gufarim (Shahara), 46
Gurzaz, wadi, 50
Gusman, dune, 223
Gypsum, 366

H

Habarut, wadi, 69, 140
water-hole, 142
Hadara, Ahl al, 48, 143
Had bi Dhomarf (Qara), 46, 53
Hadendoa, 319
Hadh al Ga’ada, 266
Hadharim (Hadhramaut), 26
Hadhbaram, 8, 47, 123
Hadhramaut and inhabitants of, 26,
69, 123, 223
dialects, 269

Hadoram, of Genesis, 48

Hafa, 8, 33, 38, 123

Hafit, Jabal, 181

Hagulun, wadi, 140

Hailat ash Shisur, 137

Hair, modes of wearing and dressing,

.73

Haitam, wadi, 183
Hajar, range in Oman, 182
Hakalai, 69

Halairan bin Mir’ai, a youth, 75
Halfain, wadi, 183

Haluf, wadi, 140
Haluwain, water-hole, 282
Hamad bin Hadi of Murra, 187,
242

Hamaidan, water at, 1 83
Hamarur, red sandhills, 259
Hamdan ibn Jasim, 90
Hamirir, 100

Hamites and Hamitic stock and
traits, 301 sqq.

Hamran, shrine of, 1 2
Hamyar, 70
Hanbali sect, 217
Hanun, water-hole, 1 1 8
Haradha, wadi, 1 28
Harasls, 48, 180 sqq., 183,

273

Hare, 167, 237

and gazelle, story of, 1 67
and witches, story of, 197
Harsusi language, 47
Hasa, 262
Hasaila, 39
Hasan of Midsaib, 50
Saiyid, 43
Shaikh, 48 sqq.

Hasik, 85
Hat, wadi, 140
Hathalain (Murra), 187
Hauf, Al, wadi, 140
Hazar, wadi, 141
Hazramaveth, 48
Head-dress, 159
measurements, 25

Hebrew invasion of Palestine,
236

Hibak, sands, 199, 271
Hlla, wadi, 140
Himyar, 70

Hinawi faction, m, 273
Hinks, A. R., xxii

[ 39 ° ]

INDEX

Hirra, 258
Hittites, 305
Hizol (Shahara), 46
Hofuf, 271, 337
Hogarth, Dr., 213
Horses, 16

Horus lock, Egyptian, 73
Hud, Qabr al Nabi, 85
Hudhi, wadi, 14 1
Hugh, Jabal, 183
Hughugit, twin wadis, 131
Hulayil, 196
Husain bin Sirhan, 213
Husn, Al, village, 8, 1 14
Husn Mirahadh, ruins, 101
Huwaiya sands, 181, 224
Hyena and gazelle, story, 6 1
Hyenas, 59 sqq., 105
Hyksos invasion of Egypt, 236

J

Ja’alan, 182

Jabob, Bait, 46, 103

Jabrin, 229, 334

Jaddat Harasls, 130, 139, 180

Jadhib, village, 123, 140

Jafura, 229, 262, 266, 281, 293

Jahalshi, 256

Jaub, region, 164, 281

Jaub Dhibi, 282

Jauf, wadi al, 143

Jaufa, Bir, 209

Jauhari, shrine, 143

Jayakar, Surgeon-General A. S., 334

Jiban, region, 164, 266

Jihan Nama, cited, 213

Jinab, wadi, 141

Jurbaib, 8, 78, 99

I

’Ibadhi, 29, 91
Ibex, 44

IbrI (Oman), 18 1 sqq.

Ice Age, 163
Ikhwan, 217, 245, 281
Imani, Bait, 181, 185
’In, pool of, 102
Ingudan, wadi, 140
Inheritance, law of, 56
Inqitat, ruins, 101
Insakht, tribe, 143
Inscriptions, 126 sqq.
Insects, 105
Irma, wadi, 86
’Isa, Shaikh, 85
Iskak, ruins, 245
Istah, wadi, 130, 140
Italians, reputation of, 18

K

Kalut, bin, 108

Karab, tribe, 61, 137, 142

Karsua, region, 230

Kashob, Bait (Qara), 46, 56

Kathlr, Al, tribe, 8 sqq., 142, 181

Katiblt, wadi, 125, 140

Keith, Sir A., 22; App. I. sqq.

Khadhra, wadi, 14 1

Khafus, water-hole, 293

Khalllain, twin hills, 226

Khamis of Auqad, 19

Kharlt, sands, 282

Kharkhlr, sands, 181

Khasfa, water-hole, 199

Khati, Al, 46

Khatiya, see Inqitat, 101

Khilat ’Ajman, 266

Khiran, 265

KhiyQnt, pool, 78, 99

[ 39 1 ]

INDEX

Khiyut al Buraidan, 259
Khor Dhahiya, see Dhahiya, 175
Ruri, 10, 18, 39
Suli, 39
Taqa, 85

Khudhifiya, Hugna of, 202

Khungari, pass, 1 28

Khuti, At, 46

Khuwaitim, 5, 107, 174

Khuwarij, sect, 44

Khuwat, wadi, 140

Kilthut, son of Shaikh Salih, 1 7 7, 23 1

Kinnear, Mr. N. B., 38, 335

Kish, 305

Kissing customs, 185
Krogman, Dr. W. M., 301 sqq.

L

Labkhit, Shaikh, 66, 93
Lahaga, ridge, 149
Lahlt, depression, 130
Landberg, Count, expedition, 48
Law, Islamic, and customary, 56 sqq.,
82, 1 19, 275

Lawrence, Colonel T. E., see Shaw

Lees, Dr. G. M., cited, 262, 334

Lehez, 1 1 8

Lice, 239

Liwa, region, 262

Lizards, 105, 140, 238, 341

Lizba, sands, 282

Locusts, 105, 237, 294, 344

Losspuppen, 208

M

Ma’adic, origin, see Nizari
Ma’arab, region, tribe, 1 1 1

Ma’ashani, Bait, 46
Mabak, 245
Mabruk, servant, 24
Mada’in Salih, 16

Magic, practice of, 41, 61, 64, 145,
194, 258

Mahmulah, garden, 39
Mahra, tribe, 47, 69, 142, 185,
227

Mahri, language, 47

Maitland, Major-General, cited, 23,

3 01

Makalla, 16
Mammals, 37, 339
Manahil, tribe, 142, 1 8 x , 227, 267
ManasTr, tribe, 181, 259, 267
Mantis, 237, 344
Maralkha, 181
Maria Theresa dollars, 188
Markha, wadi, peak, 209
Marriage customs, 64, 95, 98, 191,
244, 269, 270 n.

Marshall, Sir John, 31 1
Marzuq, 194

Mas’ad, son of Sulaiman, 1 2
Masha’i, 26

Mashruma, water-hole, 199
Masira, Gulf of, 183
Mat’ariba, tribal section, 185
Ma’yuf, 5, 107, 192
Mazariq sands, 231, 236
Medina area, 59
Melanesia, 321
Meteorites, 246, 365
Midsaib, 50
Migration, 301 sqq.

Mljora, 199

Miles, Colonel S. B., 334
Milking customs, 79, 80, 98, 144
Millet, 9

Milwah al ’Aud, 39

[ 39 2 ]

INDEX

Minaean civilisation, 23
Minerals, 365
Mingowl, 1 1 7
Miniyur, region, 181
Minwakh, water-hole, 141
Mishgas, 1 12
Mltan, wadi, 14 1, 162
Mollusca, 363
Monitor, 238
Monkeys, 161
Monsoon, 8
Months, see Calendar
Moon god, 218
Moscha, 10
Mosquitoes, 239
Moths, 237, 356
Mourning ceremonies, 57
Mubarak (Shaikh Salih), 176
Mugshin, 26, 139 sqq ., 182
Muhammad bin ’Abdul Wahhab,
281

Muhammad, author’s servant, 1
(Shaikh Salih), 185
bin Ahmad al Mingowl, 10
bin Mubarak Karabi, 203
bin Quwaid, Sa’ari, 203
bin Shughaila, 194
Muller, Dr., expedition, 48
Munajjar, sands, 236, 242, 266
Muqabll, tribe, 29
Murbat, village and peak, 10, 85,
123

Murra tribe, 109 sqq., 181, 187,
267

Musallim, wadi, 183
Bait Imani, 215

Muscat (Masqat), Sultan of, xxiv
Music (chants), 65, 76, 93, 95, 124,
195, 298, 380
Mutair, 269
Mutugtaig, 149

N

Na’aija, water-hole, 299
Nabataeans, 16, 163
Nabi ’Aiyub, shrine, 85
Nabi Salih, 85
’Umran, 85
Nahad tribe, 142, 273
Najran, 139, 182, 224
Nakhala, hill, 293
Nashlb, Jabal, 38, 100
Nashwan bin Sa’ld, 161
Natural History specimens, prepara-
tion of, 37
Nayruz, ’Id, 31
Nejd, steppe, 139
Nejdi, tribesmen, 12
Nihaz, wadi, 50, 94, 1 16
Nislyln, tribe, 273
Nizari, 1 12
Nose, kissing, 185
Nubian sandstone, 263
Nukhaiyir, 138, 151
Nukhdat Fasad, 156
Hishman, 154
Waraiga, 154
Nuwasif, sands, 236

O

Oaths, 84

Oman (’Oman), 83, 112, 137
Ophir, xxiii
Ophthalmia, 194
Ordeal by fire, 86
Oryx, 28, 134, 146
Ostrich, 147

P

Palaearctic group, 146, 163
Panther, 44

[ 393 1

INDEX

Pemberton, Lieutenant, i

Percival, Mr. A. B., 334

Petra, 16, 48, 163

Philby, Mr. H. St. J., 161, 334

Pigeons, 1 1 7

Pipes, see Tobacco

Plantains, 9

Pliny, cited, xxiii, 48

Poetry, Arab, 152

Polaris observations, 1 3 1

Polygamy, see Marriage

Portuguese, 3

Pottery, 162

Ptolemy, cited, xxiii, 129

Pulley-block, 242

Q

Qabllya, 120

Qabr al Nabi Hud, 85

Qadan, wadi, 183

Qadha Za’aza, area, 259

Qadhi, 270

Qahtan, 23, 1 1 2

Qaim, 123

Qamar Mountains, 123, 139
Qara Mountains, 3 sqq., 36 sqq .,
123,263

tribe, 8 sqq., 41 sqq., 69, 104
Qarha (Qara), 46
Qarho, Ai, 46
Oarn as Sahama, 1 8 1
Shaiba, 124
Hanun, 125
Qarun Kelba, 149
Qatar, Shaikh of, 217
peninsula, 245
Qatif, 295
Qibla (Qara), 46
Qitun, 46

Qubulat (Shahari), 46

Qufa, region, 262
Quicksands, 184
Qutun, watershed, 1 1 8
Bait, 46, 66, 99

R

Racial traits discussed, 303 sqq.
Raga’at region, 181
Raidha, 270

Raids, raiding, 138, 149', 172, 227,
231, 285
Raithot, wadi, 50
Rakhlyut, 85, 123
Rakibit, wadi, 125, 140
Rama, wadi, 92, 141
Ramadhan, fast of, 91, 243
Rashid, Rashidi tribe, 4, 181, 244,
267

Ras Nus, 85
Rathjens, 23
Rats, 105, 237
Raunib, wadi, 183
Raven, 147
Reddit, 120
Reeves, A. S., xxii
Reptiles, 341
Rifles, 173
Risut, 3, 123
Riyadh, 108, 272
Rizat, 39, 41, 48
Robat, ruins, 47
Rocks, 365
Romans, 24

Royal Geographical Society, xxi
S

Sa’ad, Ahl, 26

bin ’Abdul ’Aziz, 16

[ 394 ]

INDEX

%

Sa’adna, tribal section, 1 88
Sa’ar, tribe, 4, 66, 137, 142, 174,
231, 244, 267, 273
Sa’arln pass, 52
Sa’atan, 121

Sabaean civilisation, 23, 129
Sabkha Amra, 294
al Manaslr, 293
Sacrifice, see Blood Sacrifice
Saddles, camel, 193, 239, 268
Saflf, water-hole, 243
Sahail, murder of, 102
Rashid! guide, 4, 1 1 1
Bait Qutuni, 46, 66, 99
Sahalnaut, stream, 50
Sahaur, cave, 117
Sa’Id, askari, 77
Bait (Qara), 46
bin Saif, Wali, 29
bin Taimur, Saiyid, 1
Saif, Sa’adna, Shaikh, 186
al Islam al Ghassan, 101
Shangur, 195
Saiyids, sanctity of, 44, 66
descent, 45
Salala, 4, 1 6, 1 23
Salih, Shaikh, 108, 175 sqq.
al Mandhari, 107
bin Hud, shrine, 85
Salih bin Hut, his camel, story of, 68,
129

Salim, Qarawi, 88
Salim as Sail, merchant, 1 7
al Tamtim, 6
bin Idris al Habudhi, 101
Salub, of Najd, 143
Salutations, 75
Salwa, 245

Samhan, Jabal, 44, 79, 123, 140
Sana’, 10, 161

Sanam, sands and water-hole, 242

Sanau, water-hole, 141
Sanctuary, 276
Sandal-wood, 20
Sands, singing, 1 69
Sandstorm, 256
Sarab, wadi, 1 28
Sardines as cattle fodder, 1 2, 79
Sauqira, Bay, 183 »

Scorpions, 105, 147
Seligman, Dr. C. G., 303 sqq
Semites and Semitic race and lan-
guage, 236

Shaddad, son of ’Ad, 46
Shafi’ sect, 91, 217
Shag al Musawwar, 207
Shaggag al Ma’atif, 223
Shagham, water-hole, 14 1
Shaghuwat, 139, 140
Shahara, tribe, 40 sqq., 46
Shahari, dialect, 40, 47
Shaiba, region, 181
horn of, 1 2 1

Shaikh, Bait ash, tribe, 48

Shaitana, Bait, 93

Shanna, water-hole, 207, 223

Shaw, Aircraftsman T. E., xxii

Sheep, 144

Sheher, 16, 161

Shells, 363

Shihin, wadi, 140

Shisur, water-hole, 125, 130, 135
sqq., 199
Shrines, 85

Shu’ait, sands and wadi, 140, 161,
164

Shurafa, 44
Shuwaikila, 181, 223
Shuwairima, water-hole, 142
Sik, 10
Skink, 238

Slaves and slavery, 19, 30, 31, 67, 83

[ 395 ]

INDEX

0

Smallpox, 38

Smith, Mr. W. Campbell, 365
Smoking, see Tobacco
Snakes, 59, 92, 135, 237
Snuff-taking, 74
Socotra, 48

Somaliland and Somalis, 25
Spiders, 147, 237

and Prophet, story, 288
Spirits, evil, 44
Star-names, 228
Star-worship, 129, 218
Stories, of ’Aziz bin Khala, 239
of Abraham, 87
of the gazelle and hare, 167
of the gazelle and hyena, 61
of the Prophet and the hare, 198
of the Prophet and the spider,
288

of the Prophet’s companion, 202
of Bu Zaid, 208
of Bu Zaid’s generosity, 21 1
of Bu Zaid and sword, 213
of Bu Zaid and his wife, 2x9
of Bu Zaid and ’Aliya, 239
of Bu Zaid and his brothers,
246

of Dhiyab bin Ghanim, 277
of Dhiyab and Alan, 290
Strabo, cited, xxiii

Structure, geological, of Arabia, 1 24,
262

Sudanic types, 47
Sudh, port, 92, 1 23
Sufaiya, sands, 282
Sugar-cane, 9
Sulaiman bin Suwailim, 1 1
Sun-god, 218
Sunni sect, 29
Suwahib, sands, 225, 271
Swahili, 30

T

Tabashir ornamentation, 16
Tabok, Bait, 46

Taimur bin Faisal, Saiyid, no, 171
Talib, the Murri, 216, 282
Tamaisha, 181

Tanshlt, frankincense grove, 123
Taqa, 85, 123
Tattooing, 215
Thamut, water-hole, 141
Thebes, 71
Thidot, wadi, 50
Thuf, wadi, 140
Thumurat, wadi, 140
Thuraiya, sands, 282
Thurub bin Imani, 175
Thuwairib, ridge, 149
Tobacco, 144, 153, 296
Tombs, 126

Topographical terms, 377
Trackers, lore of, 178, 251 sqq.
Trans-jordan, xxiv
Tree-bats, 105
Tree-rats, 105
Tribal relations, 67
life, 266 sqq.

Triliths, 126
Turaiga, water-hole, 199
Turki bin Sa’id, Saiyid, 1 1
Tuwaira, water-hole, 223
Two-winged flies, 363

U

Ubaila, sands, 256
Dbar, 1 61 sqq.

Umm al Dhalua’, dune, 1 56
al Hadld, water-hole, 246
al Hait, wadi, 140, 150, 199
al Jau, dune, 156

[ 396 ]

INDEX

Umm al Dhalua’ — continued.
al Laisa, dune, 156
ar Ru’us, 156

ash Shadtd, water-hole, 130
as Samlm, quicksands, 1 84
at Tabbakh, 143
Dharta, region, 154, 170, 199
Gharib, 181
Malissa, sands, 230
Quraiyin, water-hole, 242
Umr, Bait (Qara), 46
Umran, Nabi, 85
Unicorn, 134
Ur, 309

’Urba, wadi, 140
Urine, camel, use of, 224
’Uruq-adh-Dhahiya, 164 sqq., 181
’Uruq Mijora, region, 18 1

V

Vaginal blowing, 81
Valley of Remembrance, 1 26
Vegetation, desert, 265
Venus, 129, 229
Viper, 148, 238
Von Wrede, 184
Vulture, 147

W

Wabar, 161

Waraiga, water-hole, 199
Warts, 209
Was’a, 230
Wasps, 147, 361
Water-holes, 370

Week, lucky and unlucky days, 218
Whales, 3

Wild-cat, 146, 236, 237

Wilson, Sir A. T., xxii
Witchcraft, 87
Wolves, 60, 105, 237, 293
Women, position of, 32, 98, 19
Wood, mitain , heavy, 68
Wrede, von, cited, 184
Wyllie, Mr. B. K. N., 368

Y

Yadfla, dunes, 164

Yafa’, Yaf‘i, 261, 323

Yaham, tribe, 86

Yahar, Ahl, 26

Yal Wahiba, 182

Yam, tribe, 273

Yaqut, cited, 161

Yazid, Ahl, 26

Yemen, xxiii, 123, 161

Yerbury, Col. J. W., 334

Yibaila, 164

Yin MiniySr, 164

Y usif, brother of Bu Zaid, 246,

Z

Zahair, shrine, 85
Zairutun, 140
Zaiyan, Bait, 41
Zart (Shahara), 46
ZenaitI, 161, 277
Zoology, Notes, 334 sqq.
Zuferol (Shahara), 46
Zuftair, Ai, 46
Zughain, water-hole, 199
Zurbaig, Air, 46
Zurgha, water-hole, 298
Zuwa, frankincense grove, 1 23
Zuwaira, water-hole, 223

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